My Worst Nightmare

by Violet
(Louisiana)

I was nineteen, and to be honest, I didn't really know any better. He was a friend of mine from high school, who had recently graduated and joined the military. We got in touch, and eventually started chatting. I remember thinking he was such a sweet guy, and constantly wondering why such a nice guy would talk to me, of all people.

In the course of all this, I generally broke up with a very close friend of mine I'd known for years at this point. Out of either anger or a strange foreboding, he told me to be careful. I should have listened.

After we began dating, I felt like I was in a dream. He listened to me, cared about me, and seemed to have a general interest in me. I'd never felt that before, and he knew it. I felt like I could tell him things, very personal things, and know that he would keep them in the strictest of confidence.

Big mistake.

This dream slowly began to turn into a nightmare after a few weeks. I met his friends, and while we hung out with them often, he seemed to ignore me. I thought this was okay, since I'd never been in a real relationship before, I assumed that was how things worked. Pretty soon I just gave up altogether and stayed silent, since nobody would listen.

He'd make all sorts of offensive jokes, and I'd quietly become offended, not wanting to be a spoilsport in front of his friends. He always said, "It's just jokes. You know I'm not like that." I guess it was then that I first started hiding my feelings from him.

It soon escalated from there. Barely a month into our relationship, he kept hounding me for sex, guilt-tripping me left and right. His favorite lines were, "What the hell is wrong with you?" and "Sex is the most important part of the relationship." Me being the pleaser, I caved in and gave him what he wanted.

Pretty soon, he began demanding more and more from me, calling me a "bad girlfriend" if I was too tired or felt uncomfortable about doing certain things. I fell for it, and did whatever I thought it took to please him, no matter how degraded I felt afterward. I suppose I thought if I did those little things, like dressing sexier, laughing and talking a lot less, and stopped doing other things he considered were turn-offs, then maybe the sweet person I fell for would be back. I figured if I was perfect, he'd start loving me more.

Boy, was I wrong.

I did everything I could to please him, but it was never good enough. About two months after we began dating, he announced that he was going to be deployed. I was supportive of him. I even took a solemn vow to wait for him for the six months he'd be out of the country. I loved him dearly, and was ready to show my devotion at the drop of a hat. Too bad he didn't feel the same.

Weeks after the announcement, he cheated on me. When he first told me, I was in shock. I didn't know what had happened. I asked him why, and his only reaction was that his friends made him do it, claiming "It's not that bad. You're just overreacting." He then blamed me for not caring enough about him or the fact that he was dealing with his pre-deployment stress.


It made no sense whatsoever. I reverted back to my little fucked up safety blanket of "It's okay, guys always do these things. This happens in everybody's relationship. He was in a strip club...what else did you expect? He had needs you couldn't fulfill. A good, 'cool' girlfriend forgives." And I forgave him. Like a dumbass.

After a few more weeks of walking on eggshells and literally bending over backwards to please this man, I was told that he knew what the problem was in our relationship: me. "You don't satisfy my desires," were his exact words.He boldly continued with, "I need you to be sexier, you know. You'll really have to change yourself if you want this to work. Besides, I don't want my friends to think I'm dating a f-ing retard."

Upon reading this, I crumpled to the floor and cried my eyes out. All these years I was told many times that I wasn't good enough by ordinary men; the one person I thought I could love and trust had told me as well. I felt like my worst nightmare had been confirmed that night. I felt like there was no hope; like being treated like a doll was the standard idea of a good relationship. I felt like it was okay to be used once, then pushed aside in favor of something else. Why, I'm not sure to this day.

Once I began to get my head straight, I remember playing God of War III, re-reading his messages, and thinking, "This asshole has nerve." With the help of my best friend, I later called him, told him that I was sick of his b.s., and informed him that whatever we had was over. In the following months, he tried contacting me, but after consulting a few friends and listening to my better judgment, I severed all ties with him. Looking back, it was the worst three and a half months of my life.

That was about a year and a half ago. A few months after the break-up, I reconnected with my dear friend. He's actually a wonderful guy, and continues to be every bit of man that loser never was. We've grown a lot closer since then, and have moved past the rift my irresponsibility caused. He respects me, cares about me, truly loves me, and I feel the same for him. He proposed this past March, and we plan to get married after my college graduation.

I guess what old folks always said was true: You have to suffer in the dark before you can truly appreciate the light.

Keep in mind, this had never happened to me before; hell, I'd never even dated anyone before then. So like a jackass, I forgave him.