I thought I had a friend with benefits but oh sweet mother of joseph was I wrong. I met a girl a while ago, she seemed nice enough. She had long blonde hair, faultless skin, long legs, a great smile, had a great figure and had a personality which made her interesting. I guess the only thing which could have made her more aesthetically pleasing was if she was wearing a sorbet-hued skirt.
It started off well enough, it wasn't exactly serious and mostly involved bedroom antics rather than relationship committment... I've known this girl for a few months now but last week I was informed by her that we've now been doing the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing for 5 months... wow was the second thing I thought, the first thought was 'now this is one huge misunderstanding about what's going on in this relationship'...She's even thrown that L word in for good measure.
So a few of you would be thinking, hey she's gorgeous, and you've been bumping pelvises for a while now, why not see what happens with a relationship... She's a nice girl with a bubbly personality but I can totally relate to that scene in Wedding Crashers where Isla Fisher giggles those haunting words 'don't leave me... because i'll find you'. I wish I could run, away from the the rope and bedposts, the insatiable appetite for sex for which I just can't match and the disturbing statements she makes about her deepest of fantasies which makes Clockwork Orange look like a childrens fantasy. I wish I could run from the steel fork she stabbed me in the leg with because she thought I was flirting with a waitress... ok fair enough I was flirting but my leg had 4 puncture marks in it, surely an evil stare and a few short words would have been sufficient. I want to avoid having to have 6 stiches put in my back after she scratches a bit too deep with her fingernails during a heavy make out session.
I've tried to break it off nicely but she never accepted it saying that we'll work through it and that we should head to the bedrooom, I've tried the approach of acting like a prick but she never batted an eyelid about any of it... I wish she was just normal because when I first met her, I thought she was interesting, what I failed to realise is that interesting was infact the thin layer of confusion, a thin layer delaying my discovery of one of the most mentally unstable girls I have ever met, let alone have any sort of relationship with. I just want to be able to tell mum that yes, those horizontal cuts across my wrist were from a suicide attempt, not because some girl left me for 4 hours handcuffed to her bed so she could go and have something to eat before returning to have her way with me again.
Everyone has that little voice in their head which reasons with their decisions, telling them maybe they should think about it twice or just plain outright don't do it. All my inner voice is capable of coming up with is 'whoa... how the hell did you get yourself into this situation'. I should tell her the truth. I didn't know we were in a relationship, I haven't exactly been faithful to her mostly because of this. I should tell her how the reason I didn't ring her for 18 days was not because I lost my phone, it was because I chased another girl across the other side of the world. I should tell her that I've drunkenly managed to cuckold some poor sod at a unibar party while he was on tour with his band. I should tell her that I just want my life back.
But then this scares me, because if I've suffered this much due to her love, then what on earth is she capable of when driven by a bit of anger and revenge.