Just to prepare you all for every post after this; Every name in here is an alias. Other than mine, that’s the real one, regrettably enough.
Jane. Plain old Jane. I don’t even know how to describe her. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Actually, I think they were green. What else is there to say? She just had that look. She could have been your barista at Starbucks. The waitress at Denny’s. She could have been an extra in any film ever. She just had that ‘basic’ vibe.
Of course, nobody who looks as plain as Jane did is even close to normal. There’s some funky shit hiding up in there. You’re just lucky if you learn about it before you date them.
In this case, I wasn’t lucky.
There was only 1 thing I looked for in girls back then. It’s the same now, but also back then. Was she into me? 99 times out of 100, the answer was a big fat no. No chance in hell. I was fat, loud, unhygienic and generally pretty intolerable.
So when a girl finally seemed into me, I was hers. No convincing needed.
And in this case, I mean into me. Not even ‘she’s nice to me so I’ll mistake her friendliness for romantic interest and get turned down by her’. It was genuine, stars in your eyes, fingers in your hair, giggling at every stupid thing I said interest. She wanted this shit. God knows why. Hell, he’s probably confused too.
2 weeks of courting (awful jokes, profanity, losing a couple of thumb wars) and I was in. I was now dating my friend’s younger sister. Yay…
And everything was good. For about 2 weeks. If even. I was riding that ‘first ever relationship’ high. Then it went downhill. I got complacent. She got creative.
And man, I can’t blame this chick for letting her imagination take over. The actual details of our relationship are… well, straight up fucking depressing honestly. We got as far as playing truth or dare. That was it. The whole relationship. Sit in silence or play truth or dare. Maybe never have I ever if we were feeling saucy.
I miss her.
But, you know. When your boyfriend only kisses you once in a whole month (and he dared you to do it)… you’ve gotta do something to keep yourself sane.
So she created Sam. Not just Sam, but Sam, and I have been living in his shadow ever since.
Sam, well… he’s quiet. He’s scared. He’s gets nervous holding your hand. He tells you to stand still and just stare at him for a good 2 minutes. No exaggeration, just 120 seconds of mind rending silence, filled only with uncomfortable tension and the idea that maybe he’ll gain an ounce of testosterone and kiss you. Then he says ‘never mind’ and walks off.
Sam kisses you good. Sam uses tongue. Sam fondles ya boobies. Sam gets hard every time he sees this chick. Sam is a bona fide pussy slayer.
Sam, is also apparently a werewolf or some shit, cause I don’t remember any of this happening. I’ve just heard the stories.
Sadly, since Sam was getting all the action and I was getting none (my fault, not hers), I got bored pretty quick. A month saw the end of that relationship. And I still didn’t know about Sam. I didn’t learn about Sam, until a good while after this story ends, actually, but his legacy lived on in the shadows.
No, I didn’t know why my other friend’s younger sister acted all shifty around me after that.
No, I had no clue why my now ex girlfriend’s twin sister was suddenly quite flirty around me. I know now. It’s cause she was after Sam. It’s cause she was a freak. We’ll call her Monique.
‘I’d let a guy piss on my face and never take him for granted.’ Monique.
Monique was not plain, and she wanted everyone to know it. Always wearing black, heavy eyeliner, more often than not her nails are long and just as black as everything but her pasty vampire skin. I’m sure you can picture her right now. You’ve met someone just like her.
Let it be known, I’m not into piss shit. It’s just the out there, crazy freak shit. It gets to any growing boy. That feeling of ‘hoo whee I definitely shouldn’t fuck with this but also, I need to.’
All I can say is that I tried. I should have known better, but every red flag just served to further entice me.
The piss stuff? Whatever, I can get past it.
She’s into witchcraft? Call me fucking Gandalf boys.
She writes erotic stories involving people she knows in real life? There’s just… there’s no way to justify that. Honestly, what the fuck?
But I wanted my goth girlfriend, and I wanted her right then.
To help clue you in, this is the part of the story where things look like they’re going to go right, and then they go more wrong than you thought was even possible.
After months of ‘will they, won’t they?’ with me as the only witness, I was ready to strike. I was going to ask her out. Not yet. Maybe not even within the week. But eventually. Maybe.
So we’re at this school talent show, and we’re sitting outside because it’s quieter and lonelier and the mood is on point. And I’m flirting with this girl hardcore (I was speaking to her), but not too hardcore, you know? Because you can’t really date your ex girlfriend’s twin sister. Until you do, then you definitely can.
Lock it in, man. Lock that shit in. Get it done!
Not right now, my soaring heart rate warned. Tomorrow. Gonna secure this thing, but, well, tomorrow.
Best laid plans of mice and complete fucking idiots, yeah?
Come tomorrow, my friend (the older sister) seemed a little troubled. So naturally, I sally on up and ask for the sweet deets.
Well, apparently Jane noticed I was flirting with her sister. Can I be honest here? That’s just not cool. Sure, I was flirting with her, but there was no reason her sister should have known that. It was none of her business. How did she figure it out?
The other ‘not cool’ thing she did kind of put the first bit into perspective, though.
Jane gets home and she is pissed. She is miffed she is irked she is absolutely furious and she is out for blood. She runs up to Monique’s room and goes fucking bonkers, tearing posters, shredding ass, trying to take the whole damn room down and threatening to beat the shit out of her sister.
Our 1 month relationship had ended a good year before this, if that’s important.
Anyways, she’s too riled up, her dad has to separate them. So he takes her to a hotel and the mom stays home with the other two daughters. This poor dude, he has to pay for a hotel room cause his daughter is too worked up over a spicy relationship with what may as well have been an imaginary guy.
And here’s the kicker;
It was their mother’s fucking birthday.
Somehow, I manage to have no romantic prospects for 99% of my life, but when my charms finally work, I make some chick go berserk and ruin her mother’s birthday?
There isn’t much closure for this story. Never did work out with the goth chick. That whole situation kind of killed the romance. If there even ever was any. I once drunkenly texted her that I would piss on her (not one of my proudest moments), but I haven’t seen her in a few years.
And Jane now hates my fucking guts, and I honestly don’t know why. Probably something Sam did.
There’s a silver lining to everything, right? I can tell you that that wasn’t the end of my romantic life. But that’s one of those silver linings that’s actually just a shit covered in shiny gray paint.
It really should have been the end of my romantic life.