pandalicious's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ashton, hmm. Okay. Onto other things... The thing that's been weirding me out :: Ashton, you may remember from previous entries, was my first ever boyfriend. First true love and all that jazz. Well, that was in 1988. For the math challenged, 12 years ago. We dated off and on up 'til 91, but the on part was just under 2 years. The 'off' parts were almost always due to his wanting something else. He'd call me from parties to break up with me, that kind of thing. Yeah, we were 16. It's not *that* shocking for a 16 year old to do, but I was madly in love with him, so it KILLED me. We'd almost always get back together because I didn't WANT anyone else. One of the times we were broken up, my friend Gretchen's parents were out of town. We'd gone out dancing and invited some of our friends and their friends back to her place. There was one guy that I was really attracted to, John Hancock, who looked like a young Peter Murphy. I had never really seen him before that night, but he was there with someone we'd hung out with before, so he ended up back at G's too. YAY, I thought. Cute boys! Mmm. Well, back at G's, we were all hanging out up in her room. John sat down beside me and started rubbing my leg a little bit. I was all about kissing him, I won't lie, but having only ever BEEN with one person ever and still being pretty much in love with that one person, I didn't plan on doing much more than kissing. John, on the other hand, had plenty more in mind. Everyone ended up downstairs but me and John. As soon as the last person left, he got up and closed the door, locked it and hit the lights. When he came back I realized that he had also dropped his pants at the door. He wasn't wearing anything from the waist down. He kissed me forcefully, pushing me down on the waterbed. He kept kissing me hard so I couldn't protest as he tried to get my panties off. I was able to say that I didn't think we should be doing this... but he kissed harder to keep me quiet. I tried to push his hips away to get him off of me. One of his hands slipped and it ended up giving him that extra push he needed to get inside. I remember hitting him, trying to push him off, saying NO, STOP, DON'T and other words of protest but nothing was working. I told him he'd better pull out at least. After that, I left my body. It was like I could see what was happening from the ceiling-view. I distanced myself, a defense mechanism that I'm pretty sure I had adopted a long time ago for something else that might have happened... but that's another entry altogether... The whole thing was done in probably 2 minutes. He pulled out, rolled over, got his pants on, told me he was going to smoke and I never saw him again. No goodbye, no 'let me get your phone number', nothing. Oh. Okay. Huh. This wasn't what I was used to. I went downstairs to hang out, sure he was just chillin' with everyone else in the tv room. Nope, he got his friend and took off. G asked me if we'd kissed. Uh-huh I said, what was left of my lipstick smeared all over the bottom of my face. I felt like crying, but I was just in a daze. I couldn't believe what happened. I had hoped they would come back, that he would want to get to know me, that they just went out for cigarettes or something. I tried to remain optimistic, but I knew better. So then I started asking myself the questions :: Didn't I ask for it? Wasn't it my fault for even kissing him? Didn't I *want* it? He was a hottie. So I tricked myself into believing the latter. It was easier that way. About two weeks after that awful night of April 2nd, 1989, Ashton and I were about to get back together. I knew I had to tell him what had happened. He didn't take it too well. You must keep in mind that at this point, I still made myself believe that I must have really wanted it, even though deep down there was no way in HELL I did; I'm a die-hard romantic, I want love, real love and affection. But he told me that I disgusted him and he never wanted to see me or touch me ever again. And I was DEVASTATED. UTTERLY DEVASTATED. I went into a deep depression. The only boy I had ever loved hated me, was sickened by me. How could I live? I never once tried to kill myself, but my self-image got more and more distorted, and I didn't honestly care what happened to me. If Ashton didn't want me, someone would. And anyone who wanted me could have me. In reality, it wasn't as drastic as it seems. There were only 2 guys, one I never even had sex with. But Ashton did not want me, so it didn't matter. Of course we ended up back together eventually. I didn't tell him about the other 2 guys, apparently. The other night at my party, I told him about all of this. How I never wanted to have sex with John. That John essentially raped me. But you know what bothered him most of all? That I'd been with other guys after that and he got back together with me and didn't know. He didn't care that I had this big secret that fucked up my attitude about my sexuality for so long, even AFTER I said point blank that that whole episode fucked me up, the only thing that bothered him was that I had "gotten it on" with other guys and then got back with him. All of this bothers me NOW because Ash is convinced that he is still in love with me. I insist that he's in love with the 16 or 17 year old girl that I was, not who I have become now. He thinks that because I am single now, and he is, too, that we can just start up again where we left off back in 1991... and I can't. I won't. I have hung out with him occasionally, maybe once or twice a year. Every time he sees me he tries to kiss me. Friday night was no exception. He kept TRYING and TRYING despite my saying NO and DON'T. It was like he just didn't care. And I know he's acting out of this love that he takes for granted. He takes it for granted that I will always have a special place in my heart for him, but he doesn't realize that it's like an old prom dress that doesn't fit anymore. I want to be open minded about this, but there are a lot of things that bother me about it. One, he hasn't hung out with me enough to know if he genuinely still likes me. He's skipping over the rediscovery period and I would definitely need that if I were even going to remotely consider any kind of relationship with him. Two, he tried to kiss me while he was MARRIED. I don't cheat, ever. EVER. This tells me that he does. If the going gets tough, he will look for other places to find comfort instead of braving the storms that he's a part of... Three, he repeatedly tried to kiss me the other night even after me telling him NO about 8 or 9 times. When he left, he demanded that I give him a kiss. I STILL refused. There are other things... but this entry is entirely too long. There is actually a whole separate issue that I need to address... but I will save that til tomorrow. =) 00:03:22 - October 29th, 2K :: 7:55pm ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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