Monday, July 30, 2012

Contempt Breeds Contamination

This post is only titled that because it is a Trivium song and I am going to see them today. However, dearest Matthew Heafy has a point. Contempt does breed contamination...


So I've tried to hint toward a friend of mine "Hey, I'm gay" but I feel like she's putting it out of her mind. 


"Stop reading into it so much until you convince yourself it's true." She has a point, I do have a tendency to do that. However, I am not making this up. You don't just pull a conclusion like this out of your ass. It just doesn't work that way. I can't just decide one day I'm gay. 


I remember in the eight grade I had this favorite teacher. Mrs. Gina Yarbrough was her name. Valentine's Day rolled around and I pilfered not only this rose thing, but a cheap gold ring to put inside of it. I gave it to her and my fellow classmates made fun of me for it. At the time, I didn't realize what I was doing, but as I reflect on it, that may have been the first hints that hey, you're attracted to chicks. That was the same school year I lost my V card. This particular instance occurred later in the year (obviously. Hello! Valentine's Day!). 


When I graduated high school, a couple friends came up from Mississippi to see it. Upon leaving, I developed an unhealthy crush on the female, Breanna. She never found out, but disowned me nonetheless for being immature. Stupid woman wouldn't answer my phone calls. 


Later that year, I had met a young female online and crushed on her awhile. When I told her, she smashed my heart. A different female I met online did the same thing.


In 2010 at AIT (advanced individual training, where soldiers go after basic training to learn their craft), I crushed hardcore on a girl named Cassandra Martinez. It took about a month after I graduated that course for her to smash my heart, and a month later I got over it. 


I started work at Walmart in November 2010, and there I met what I thought was a gorgeous redhead, Crystal Brannan. I like doodling on receipt paper, and I drew body parts on a piece. She accused me of drawing her with a big nose, so I told her she was Jewish. It spawned the nickname I gave her, the Jewish Redhead. She assumed I was a lesbian due to my status in the military (which is ridiculous, not all females in the Army are gay...) and my German descent made her coin the phrase "Nazi Lesbian." I had a dog tag made for her with the words "The Nazi Lesbian Hearts The Jewish Redhead" which I found out much later she still has. It was an innocent lady crush, but it became unhealthy. She knew I wanted her, and she played my emotions like a fiddle. While leading me on, she also conversed frequently with who would become her boyfriend and later her husband, a man named Kendrick Andrew Jones.


My jealousy is a trait I'd rather be without, but I am only human. The more she talked to him, the more jealous I became. And to make up for the pointed remarks I kept making, I decided I'd doodle an innocent photo of the two of them (this being post announcement of her changed relationship status. She was due to wed a few months later). I love documenting my progress, and took photos as I went. But like any other artist in the world, when I felt it looked like vomit, I showed a video of my displaying my failure then crumpling it up and throwing it. What was seen was her boyfriend, and she took it as "Hey, your boyfriend sucks. Watch me destroy him." She threw a fit and attacked me first on Facebook, then through her friends. At this point, my first drinking binge began. She got me hooked on Wild Turkey 101, and for many days I'd come in to work (on and off the clock) either buzzed or trashed. It took me forever to let her go, and it left an awfully painful scar on that heart of mine. After I let her go, those callouses formed and my walls came up. I swore I'd never let a soul into my heart. Ever. For the rest of forever.


But as naive little me tends to get, of course I'd meet someone else and want their heart too. 



And this time, it was male. GASP. His name was Christopher Jean, and I met him when I started working third shift at Walmart. It would seem we had several things in common, and the more I got to know him, the more I wanted him. He was as damaged as me, and often mentioned his own walls kept him safe. I swore to him I'd bring them down. But the more I got to know him, the better our friendship became, and after three months of chasing, he eventually put me down. Once again, someone else smashed my heart. Unlike my previous attempts, our friendship grew even stronger and he turned into a valued confidante. He knows everything there is to know about me, and can read my entire being like a book. (let's not talk about the fact that I wear almost all of my emotions on my sleeve...)

He identifies as bisexual, and for all you poor souls who live under a rock, that means he loves both sides of the fence. Over time I learned he leaned more towards men than women. But it was the fact that he leaned more towards men that made him that much more attractive. He's quite unavailable, which made him desirable. It took forever for me to stop thinking of him as a potential lover and more as a best friend. He later told me that he had me pegged as a lesbian from the start, and I asked him what he thinks my orientation is.

"Right now, you don't know, and until you are with someone, you won't find out. But I'm almost positive you are a lesbian." That conversation took place after I came out to my other dear friend, and shortly before the person swearing that I am overthinking my own sexuality to the point where I'm talking myself into homosexuality. 

You'd think with so many uncomfortable female attractions, I'd get the hint and claim asexuality. Oh, no. 

And this reminds me of a situation back in March or April. A friend who I let in to my life and told her bits and pieces of my shattered past betrayed my trust. A married woman had invited me to her house, where (for some reason) I had better chances of sleeping, since at the current point in time I'd had difficulty at my own house. High on synthetic weed, she began hitting on me at an uncomfortable level. She attempted to talk me into sleeping in her bed, threatened rape (and I use that lightly. She would have never actually went through with it) and after awhile, decided to take a shower. When she reemerged into her living room in nothing but a towel, I promptly left. Later I texted her saying, "If you ever do something like that again, I will destroy you." And I could too. All I had to do was swing by her husband's place of work and tell him everything. Her marriage would be ruined.

We talked about it later, and she thanked me tenfold for not saying anything. I told her that if she wasn't one of my best friends, I would have told her husband. It was the fact that I valued our friendship that I forgave her, and now whenever I go to her house I always make sure that either her foster kids are there or her husband. Never again will I step foot in her home with just her there. Let's take the emotionally damaged woman we know and attempt to take advantage of her. I may never forget that. 

I've had such amazing luck with relationships, I'm hard pressed to initiate another chase, but as fate would have it, I'm sure there's another failure waiting for me. With a hardened heart, I'm sure I'd be able to resist, but everyone knows how well matters of the heart work out. When you find someone you can't stop thinking about, of course you put everything into stealing their heart. Inevitably, any romantic endeavor I go through falls to pieces. Some might argue, "You just haven't found the right one." My rebuttal is always, "I'm not finding anyone." I've tried so hard to seal my heart, but I know just how easy those walls come down. 

Maybe after her foolish act, or the ridiculous desire for my best friend Chris, I'll have learned something.

Love just isn't meant for me.

-DCV-

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