Table for two, please. My conscience will be joining me soon.

...
I think Charlie saved me.

Some of this stuff no one knows. Even Justy. But hey, what the hell. This shit sucks, though, I cried while re-reading this.

Truth is, I wasn't always happy and geeky and smart. Last year fucking sucked. Epicly.
I realize the next part might hurt Charlie, but again, this is something we have never discussed, and I don't want to keep anything from him. Please don't be mad.

I wouldn't say I was in a relationship beginning of sophmore year. There was this one asshole (all he is) that I clung to because I was terrified of being alone. I did not love him. Shit, I didn't even like him. As a boyfriend or as a person.
I always make jokes on how I would like beat Justyna up for being a stupid woman, or how Carlos is a real man if he kissed me with his fist. But violence in anything resembling a relationship isn't funny. And it hits close to home. Just like rape, if I don't laugh at it, I think I would die. Those two things I would rather laugh about than spend nights crying, wondering what the fuck went wrong in my life. Wondering why I deserved this, why I was the one abused.

So yeah, back to sophomore year. The only time I saw him (the asshole) was in ROTC. I think the fact that he is there is why I stopped going to ROTC last year. Whenever anyone was around, he took every possibility he could to push me around. And when no one was watching, he called me stupid, irresponsible, ugly, and useless. He hit me. I'm not joking. Only Evelyn saw the bruises. Only Anj saw me cry because the bastard fucked up my ribs. Plural.

And now of course, I have 20-20 hindsight. I now understand that he was just an asshole who took adventage of me (what else is new?) but then, I was scared out of my mind. I was terrified if someone asked me why I was beaten up. I was scared of ROTC.

I wanted to escape.
I made a mistake. A mistake I joke around about now, but I regret it. I admit I smoked pot. (This part Charlie knows) And often.
Please don't yell at me or judge me. I know it was stupid. I know it was irresponsible. And the fact that I was completely blazed at school (especially on Wednesdays, ROTC days) was very stupid, and that is why I failed three classes. When I was high, it didn't hurt that much. His words did not sting, and I shrugged off the bruises.

I feel so stupid. I really fucked up my life last year. My GPA went from a 5.2 to a 3.6. I went from being an A+ student to a beaten up pothead. I had so many friends that I ended up pushing away. My mom was confused on why I changed so much. And fuck feminism, I cried every night because I was afraid the next time he hits me, I won't be able to get back up. How could I possibly support women when I could barely keep myself in one place?

This is going to sound fucked up, but I needed a friend. I could never talk to Evelyn about this because she would have started drama. And other than her, I was afraid to talk to someone else because he managed to convince me that I am worthless and other than him, no one will ever love me or care. I really believed that. At first, I shrugged it off, but after hearing that over, and over, and over again, I started believing him. And that sucked.

And the cycle was broken.

I remember being in ROTC, sitting by the fieldhouse, and using my friend's iPhone to get on Facebook. I checked Evelyn's stupid posts on how happy she is dating Mike, I saw all the lovey crap they wrote. I wondered why that could never be me. Why I have never heard a sincere "I love you" or why no man has ever had the guts to ask me out. The only person I ever felt attached to moved on with his life (college whoo hoo), and I didn't really care for anyone. I wanted that one person, but I never even got a chance to tell him how great he is.
And then I saw I had a friend request.
Who else than Carlos? He requested me. Even if it was a stupid website where the more friends you have, the supposedly more popular you are, and the only thing connecting you was a line of code, I was happy. He requested me. Me. And we started talking.

A week after Charlie requested me, I came up to the asshole on Wednesday, and I told him I never wanted to see him again. I never wanted to hear his voice, and I am tired of pain. He called me a skank because the only possible reason why I would talk to him is because I was fucking around, and he said no one will ever love or care about a bitch like me.
I punched him. Looking back, I should have castrated the bastard. With hot scissors. And made him swallow his excuse for balls if he thought he was tough for beating a girl. But I only punched him.
It felt so good. That half a year of pure pain, mostly clouded by marijuana, went through my memory so quick that I was left breathless. I punched him. It was done.

I felt so powerful. So happy. So free. I never smoked again, weed or cigarettes. I was clean, and happy.

But I didn't feel as alone.

The moral of the story; I went through shit that no woman should ever be put through. With a little help of a friend (and now a lover, my sole reason for existance), I perservered, and I kicked ass.
Whatever you are angry at, whatever hurts you, whatever ever puts you down, DON'T ACCEPT IT. Now, I am a good student, in AP classes yet again, I am as nerdy as it gets, and my life has been blessed with the gift that is WoW. Lol, as much as I love the game, that's not the point.

Anyone who thinks they can put you down, laugh at them and ask what the fuck they have accomplished in life. And walk away.

I don't know what would have happened if Charlie hasn't talked to me. Surely, I would have attempted suicide. Attempted. I am not sure whether or not I would have suceeded. Again, one of those things I laugh at, but I remember to myself all the nights wishing that I was dead.
I know I wouldn't be clean. I know from pot, I would have moved on to something stronger. Pot doesn't do as much as I expected at the beginning.

Carlos had good timing. At a time I was ready to jump under the freakin metra to end it all, or possibly just... IDK. I was going down a WRONG path, and I think he opened my eyes. To both the fact that I can have friends again, the fact that I am smart, and he opened my eyes to love.


I'll take the check, please. My conscience and I are done. The dinner was pleasant, albeit a tad bitter.