Incident Twenty: The End

Suffice to say things were reaching a bit of a dead end with Mr Weirdo. He was seeing another girl behind my back regularly, we hadn’t slept together in just over a year and following the fallout of Mr Xbox I was once again too nervous to leave.

That was until my cat died. I know it sounds pathetic, but my cat was 15 years old, I’d had him since I was a child, and where everything else in my life had seemed so chaotic, the cat was my one constant. I firmly believe that as we buried him, we buried a large part of me too.

I stopped eating. I lay in bed all day but rarely slept. I ignored messages from AWS1 and my few remaining other friends, as well as Mr Weirdo. I remember wanting to die but feeling it would be so much effort that I couldnn’t even do that.

Mr Weirdo began losing his temper. He barged his way into my home and dragged me physically from my home, forcing me to go to dinner at his. I sat all evening at their table weeping until even his mum took pity on me and told me I was excused.

Mr Weirdo demanded I start taking antidepressants, otherwise he would have no choice but to leave, “And believe me, nobody else will put up with this kind of behaviour”. I went to the GP, was given a course of Citaloprams, and hid them in my room. I never touched a single pill, but luckily showing Mr Weirdo the box had convinced him enough.

Onne of Mr Weirdos friends suggested to him that we should go on a date, the idea being that you treat it like a fresh start and new life is pumped back into the dead relationship.

I dressed up, did my hair and make up, then as soon as we got to the restaraunt (“I’m not paying for you, this is your fault, not mine”) realised I was too broke to pay and didn’t want to treat it as a new start. At all.

I began demanding to know why he was cheating on me. Mr Weirdo denied it even as he was texting her under the table. A frosty silence ensued. After the starters, I’d had enough. I insisted he drive me back home.

The journey was silent and tense, and then he took a wrong turn. I waited for him to turn back round, but he carried on. He stopped outside the house of the other girl. He parked.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then” he said.

I stared at him in disbelief, “This isn’t my house”.

He looked at me, looked at the house and blushed before cracking up laughing.

“Oops!” He says.

I kicked the car stereo in with my heels, and believe me that stopped him laughing. I had to walk back to my own home.

As soon as I got in, I changed the setting on my Facebook to “single” and ignored all his calls. After 3 days of being rejected he sent me a message saying he understood we needed to take a break so I could “fix myself” and then come back when I was ready. Much like the broken car stereo.

I held strong, fighting against my now automatic instincts to just go back because I had no energy for confrontation.

ASW1 was, as always, brilliant. She firmly told me I was right not to take him back, even though I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough or if it really was “just a break”.

That’s when I got the email from Dear Diedre.

Incident Nineteen: Mr Xbox

Around the same time as I was making friends with AWS2, I also made friends with a guy called Mr Xbox. He was short for a guy, about my height, quiet and shy but with a great sense of humour. He had this way of finding a joke in any situation and when he told it to you it would feel immediatly like an in joke, something that the two of you alone shared. He had a way of making you feel like you were the closest person to him in the room.

We had been friends since the first break up with Mr Weirdo. Both of us by nature are flirtatious and so we quickly established a teasing/flirting dynamic which appeared promising. When Mr Weirdo came slithering back, we dampened the friendship a bit but not for long.

Whenever he got a girlfriend, Mr Xbox seemed very quick and very picky to dump them. Seemingly whenever they both disagreed on something. I’d heard rumours that he’d slapped one of them, but scoffed at the idea. He was so quiet! So short and slender! Him? No way!

However I couldn’t deny he had an intensity. Whilst Mr Weirdo finished Uni, me and Mr Xbox formed an unusually close relationship back at home. We would go out together occassionally in the group (before I edged out from them), and photos at the time show us always sitting together, his arm encircling my waist or me sitting on his lap. He didn’t really like big social outings so a lot of the time we’d sit at his house playing video games or sitting curled up in each others arms watching films at 3am.

We never slept together or even kissed, but everyone who knew us considered it a relationship, because in every other respect it was. We did almost kiss once- that awkward rom-com esque thing where you both stare into each others eyes and know if nothing breaks it, a kiss will ensue. But someone came into the room, we jumped apart and the momment was gone.

Mr Xbox wasn’t used to having female friends. He would get jealous (mostly of my other friends as oppose to Mr Weirdo) and possessive. Although I was treated much better than any of his real girlfriends (he took me on a daytrip to the City and bought me an expensive lunch for my birthday, his girlfriend got a phone sock from an HMV sale), there were rows.

The rows would escalate to screaming and being very vindictive. This one time I gave him the wrong directions during a drive and he stopped the car and pushed me out in the middle of nowhere, forcing me to call a friend for help. Another time he got so angry at me teasing him, his brother had to drive me back from his house.

But when we made up we very quickly fell back into something that felt oddly “special”, nobody else in either of our lives was able to compete with each other.

“It’s not about whether you sleep together,” a friend at the time said, “Neither of your relationships are positive. One is cold and controlling, the other is passionate but damaging. You get what you’re missing out of one from the other”

After almost a year of this, Mr Weirdo finished Uni and it became harder to keep the two relationships apart. Mr Xbox had already demanded once that I leave everyone else to be wuth him, and although it was too big a demand for my tastes, the relationship was druglike. I thought to myself, I’m going to end it with Mr Weirdo. Even if I don’t get with Mr Xbox, when I’m single I can at least have space to figure out how I feel about him.

And then, the punchline. Mr Xbox got a girlfriend. And his girlfriend was the same girl Mr Weirdo was sleeping with behind my back.

I found myself part of an awful situation, admittedly my own fault, where Mr Weirdo would tell me how sorry he felt for his mistress, how Mr Xbox didn’t treat her how she deserved and she needed a man (like him, just as an example!) who would love and respect her. Worse, all our mutual friends who knew that we had been “together” were messaging me asking was I okay. I felt humiliated.

I begged Mr Xbox to see reason, but from my position it wasn’t exactly a convincing argument. In a moment of regretable childishness, I told him his girlfriend was sleeping with my boyfriend and intoned we should have each others backs in such a situation. Like I say, convincing!

Anyway, Mr Xbox lost it and the final argument ensued. He threatened to text all my friends all the secrets I had told him, only for it to backfire when he realised I had told him none. I guess we hadn’t been as close as either of us thought. He and his family moved up North and although we did hash it all out years later, it was never really the same.

When he and his girlfriend inevitably broke up (her citing distance, him citing infidelity), she fell straight back into just being Mr Weirdos mistress.

“He had a biting thing” A Mr Obsessed horror story

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It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about Mr Obsessed, mainly because I still shudder every time I think about him being anywhere near me. But a flashback has come back to me so vividly that it’s making my toes curl.

Suddenly it’s reoccurred that he was a biter.

On several occasions he used to just clamp his teeth (all 6 of them, there weren’t many more than that) into my flesh. Usually on my bum or neck. It was never during any sort of passionate moment.

At no point did I express any sort of enjoyment for this, he used to lock his jaw and really clamp down hard into me. My reaction would always be the same, I’d clearly say (or sometimes shout): ‘No no stop please stop’. My body used to go into a panic mode and I’d hyperventilate which he said he thought was laughter, even though I said straight away, and several times, that it was unbearably painful.

It would get to the point where I would literally be reaching to grab his chin and forehead to try and open his jaw and get him to release me.

There were a few occasions where I’d be in tears afterwards from the pain, he found this hilarious. He’d often leave a bad bruise.

Clearly it was some sort of power fetish that he had. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that if I was being abused (physically or emotionally) in a relationship I’d get myself out of there ASAP, but as I have written before, and will probably write several more times, it’s never as easy as you think……

My Best Friend’s Brother

This was a bad idea from the minute he started grinding up against me in the club I was in with my best friend. Why we had decided to bring him out with us I have no idea – I think he was supposed to meet up with some of his friends. And didn’t.

So we get back to their parents house (both still living at home with the parents as this WAS a LONG time ago) and my best friend and I go to bed together. We always did this when I stayed over and there was absolutely nothing to it, it was completely innocent. I however was on this night *diverted* to the brother’s room across the hallway.

Funny business ensued after which I made my way back to my shared bed with my best friend / his sister. Yes, I know all the “keeping it in the family” type jokes…

I’d like to say this was a one off, but it wasn’t. However, it eventually became a lesson learnt that I’ve not gone back on to this day – relatives of close friends are off limits.

But, this story has an amusing ending. One of the next girls the brother slept with gave him a STD, so my best friend and I got to repeatedly laugh at him, together, and our bond was restored.

Doomful Online Dating: Religious Indoctrination

To recap – these are messages I get from complete strangers. They are the first contact I have ever had from them…on a DATING SITE.

With regards to this one –  just say NO kids…

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Incident Eighteen: Sherlock Holmes vs. AWS1

I met AWS1 at a night out. She was invited by other members of the group we hung out in. Although we had attended the same school, we had never really spoken.

I remember one morning logging onto Facebook to see photos from an event the night before, which I had been too ill to attend. There was this girl in all these brightly coloured clothes jumping around in a few of them. “She looks crazy” I thought, admiringly. She reminded me of how I’d been a few years back before Mr Weirdo had infiltrated the group.

You know when you’re at school and you see another kid you like, and you want to be friends, but aren’t sure what to say? That was pretty much how it was with AWS1. Eventually I blurted out that I’d like her to come out for my birthday in a weeks time and she agreed.

We clicked pretty much straight away. AWS1 was (still is!) smart, creative, a little bit quirky and wore her heart on her sleeve. She seemed to make choices based on what she felt in her heart. I admired her greatly for all these qualities. Mr Weirdo, of course, did not.

“She’s a bad influence on you,” he sneered, “She forgets that just because she’s single, you’re not. I don’t want you hanging around her whilst she’s out looking for men”

So, much like an affair in itself, we used to sneak out on nights out. It wasn’t so much about looking for guys either. We abandoned the other group and just went out dancing and joking with (or about) the strange people we’d meet in the city.

Mr Weirdo became increasingly irate until eventually he demanded to be guest to one of these nights out, as proof of my loyalty. AWS1, not knowing really what he was like at this stage, invited him to a Halloween fancy dress party.

I’d kept Mr Weirdo at arms length a bit with AWS1. She had met him a few times, but I was embarrassed to disclose how the relationship truly was, and was already edgy by the time it came round.

Mr Weirdo was wealthy and loved to show this off. He paid a local tailor to handsew him a complete Sherlock Holmes outfit. He made disparaging remarks about me and AWS1s store bought costumes.

At the event, the co-ordinater asked me if I knew Mr Weirdo. I said yes, and the co-ordinater grinned apologetically.

“That’s a shame! You would have won the females best costume otherwise!”

Mr Weirdo won best male costume. He spent the whole evening glaring at all the other guests, grimacing when they asked to pose with him, and sniffing at the bottle of wine he won as a prize. The photographer tried to take a photo of the three of us, but Mr Weirdo pushed me away savagely.

“It isn’t your competition” he snarled.

At one point I lost sight of AWS1 where she’d gone to the toilets. I went to sit with Mr Weirdo, who began lecturing me to pick better friends, as this one had clearly gone off to find men and just left me alone. Only he was here to look after me, he said, and sighed at the weight of this burden.

AWS1 of course returned and eventually we drove home. We were all dead silent in the car. As soon as she pulled up outside my house, before AWS1 had even turned the ignition off, Mr Weirdo was out of the vehicle.

“Give me your keys. Don’t take forever.” He snapped, and stormed inside.

I was horrified because it was like having to show a friend a vulnerability you aren’t ready to show them. I was terrified AWS1 really would dissappear, disgusted by how horrible he was, and surely by extension, how pathetic I was.

Instead, AWS1 looked at me kindly and said, “Don’t worry. We’re never inviting him again”

In my relief I became very tearful. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Rome, or the affairs, or the whole unconcious rape thing, but I expressed how lonely and trapped I felt.

The whole time, my phone was buzzing with furious messages; WHERE R U? HURRY UP. TELL HER YOU NEED TO GO TO BED.

AWS1 said to me, just before she drove away, “I’m making a wish for you that you’ll find someone better, who treats you how you deserve”

That wish was truly a lifeline.

The IT Guy – Part One

it-guy-0013This will be the last sad story I write for awhile – as I will revert to the deviance chapters of my life to date: those stories make me gleeful and are no doubt less depressing.

The IT Guy is the other male creature (Ref: Mr Northerner) that has had a notable impact on my life. But for all the wrong reasons.

TIG was the one that made me into the distrusting, scorned, generally unimpressed woman that I still am when it comes to men. He showed me what utter pigs men could be for no real, decent reason. I think a lot of women have *this guy* in their past, and he somewhat ruins them for future males due to the complete rotting to the core that takes place in certain respects.

Anyway. My TIG.

I was a lot younger than I am now, in many ways. I’d just broken up with a guy I’d been with for near on 4 years. TIG was a guy I knew (as ever, through “the professional network”) and we’d historically had a few chats and laughs. We had contacts in common as well so sort of orbited around each other in a larger social circle.

He asked me out one day. I said yes. After a couple of weeks we started seeing each other. All was going ok until I heard mutterings on the grapevine that his ex was coming back to the area – predominantly to get back with him. I heard nothing of this from him, naturally. Alarm bells should have started to ring at this point – they didn’t.

After a couple of months, things sort of fizzled out between us as a couple. Apart from the sex. The sex, throughout everything, was brilliant. Sometime after things fizzled out, we started hooking up casually. A lot. Everywhere. At pretty much every opportunity.

However, by this point, unbeknown to me, he’d gotten back with his ex – again, I heard rumblings on the grapevine but was somewhat uninterested in paying attention to them. What did complicate the situation was that his ex returned to working in the same organisation as him, meaning things had to be kept very discreet, especially in our shared circle.

TIG and I continued to hook up. There’s a saying about time being spent with someone, and how that grows emotion. I’d agree with this. By this point we admitted that we loved each other, and I knew he was back with his ex. He wasn’t prepared to rock the boat and risk his relationship with her, following how ours hadn’t worked out. He also claimed that my temper was quite terrifying to be on the end of – a stance he would use extensively in difficult situations with me over the coming…years.

To Be Continued….

Dating Horror Story: Mr ‘Flash Your Tits’

A short bedtime story, apologies for any bad dreams caused:

I had been speaking with Mr FYT for a few weeks. We had met on a dating website, found we had some common ground, and that we had attended the same university at the same time. It was all very civil, so we agreed to meet.

On the agreed meeting day he asked if I had any venue preference. I said I had a long day at work so I was absolutely starving, he said he had something in mind so I left it to him, thinking he knew somewhere we could eat near the station we’d agreed to meet at.

Just as I was about to get onto public transport to meet him, he messaged saying it might be nice to go to the park and to bring a drink. I’m not big into alcohol but thought it would be quite nice to have a cold drink in the park on a hot summer’s day. Oh how wrong I was…..

We met at the station which was near the park, the conversation was awkward on the walk there. Then he seemed to be leading me to a very specific bit of this park, almost as if he had been there before…..

We sat under a tree, conversation wasn’t going well. It all ended abruptly when he turned to me and said:

“So, you going to flash your tits at me?”

I was taken aback, there wasn’t any great amount of chemistry, he hadn’t made any attempt at intimacy, but was just expecting me to show him my boobs.

In my shock I didn’t tell him where to go, as I should have done (hindsight is beautiful isn’t it), but said ‘not until you’ve kissed me’.

Which he refused to do, for about 10 minutes, he then got up and said we were going to a different part of the park, the sun was beginning to set at this point, we got to another very specific tree and he said:

“You can suck me off here, no one will see”

At this point I quickly said it wasn’t going to work and walked off back to the station, and never heard from him again.

The incident leaves me bewildered to this day…

And there so ends another dating horror story.

What has your worst date been? Comment below and we’ll share more of ours

Mr Feline

catApologies for the absence. I have (unintentionally obviously) been off collecting subjects for this blog.

Mr Feline was named so due to his love of cats. I love cats too so this was a welcome quality.

Mr F and I saw each other for a good few months, things were generally ok and there were no significant issues.

Until last week, when he repeatedly forced his hand between my legs and touched me intimately without my expressed consent, when I was half asleep in bed. I was fully clothed and had given no indication that I “was in the mood.”

I feel stupid for allowing it to repeatedly happen, but at one point I thought I was imagining it like some sort of weird nightmare. And I felt guilty (as for medical reasons that don’t need to visit here) that we hadn’t had very much sex recently. And I thought he would stop. I was embarrassed at the thought of having to ask my partner to stop touching me. Or making a “drama” by saying no. Repeatedly telling him that I was asleep was not sufficient.

I left his house after the 3rd time he did it. I was so worried about upsetting him and prompting something unpleasant (as I know longer felt that I knew this man at all) I didn’t say anything. When I commented about his “attention” his reply was along the lines of “can’t blame me for trying / had to give it go.”

I spent the whole weekend in denial that it had happened. Then one morning in the following week, during my commute I started crying. I went to work, but the next day I took advantage of a private appointment to not attend work at all. It was that night I managed to get over my shame and embarrassment to speak to a few of my friends about it. The response was reassuring – it wasn’t my fault, I hadn’t given consent and he had taken advantage of the “lack of sex situation” in a very awful way.

When I messaged Mr F to end things, he apologised a lot but kept saying that he had “misread” the situation. He then said that he’d really miss me. This was somehow one of the worst parts. He couldn’t admit properly that he was in the wrong, and that there was a part of him that didn’t hear “no” – so it’s ok, right, to just access your partner intimately whenever it suits, basically? And sigh, how awful of me to break things off…

I hope to never see or hear from him again, but I fear for the next woman he has a relationship with, as he truly showed no indication of this character to me until it was literally too late.