Losing Control

As great as Konner was, as much as I thought I cared about him, I could never bring myself to spend time with just him, and I really couldn't show any form of PDA. It took a lot for me just to hold his hand in the hallways at school. I thought I was just modest or self-conscious. Then I started having more than just relationship problems.
Within the first month we got back from winter break, I was driving into the school parking lot (late, like always) on a terribly rainy day. I pulled my Yukon into my assigned parking spot, but the truck next to me was a little crooked, and I could barely see because of the rain, and I'm a terrible driver, so I hit his truck. The damage wasn't bad, and it wasn't that big of deal. Less than two weeks later, I was bringing my friends (Lane included) home from school, and when I started backing out, a car full of teenagers came speeding up the lane, and I hit the side of their car.
I took it pretty hard.
It was a lot worse for me than necessary just because I had been just having problems all around. I didn't want to get out of bed in the mornings and was always late (or totally missed) pre-cal so I was in turn failing. Things just weren't good for me, despite my dream relationship.
So while we were waiting on the cops to show up, I just felt totally sick. I don't know how to explain it. I walked to the edge of the parking lot and squatted over the grass because I thought I was going to vomit. When I didn't, I started trying to make myself, as subtly as possible. It didn't work.
We finally got everything squared away, and I brought everyone home.
That evening I still felt pretty sick--not nauseous, but so upset that it seems to be an illness. I debated for a really long time, but finally I decided to go take a shower.
I wanted punishment. I wanted to show myself exactly how fucking stupid I was. I wanted to tell myself that I didn't deserve anything good in my life. I put my friends and four strangers at rick because I couldn't even pay attention for five fucking seconds. I wasted my dad's money. I messed up someone's life. My life should be the one that was messed up.
I held the razor in my hand for a really long time, just staring at it. I didn't really know what to do. I wanted to know the "right" way to do it. I was self-conscious and worried about screwing up, even about that. Finally, I just slid the head of the razor across the skin on my upper leg. It wasn't very satisfying that first time. I broke very little skin because of the plastic surrounding all of the razors. Over the next few weeks, I developed my method.

A New Boy!

My friend Keshia (who is absolutely amazing and with whom I'm rooming at college) dated a boy about the same time, maybe shortly before, I dated Preston. He was really quite cute, and he was in drama, which is pretty much the most attractive thing ever. A straight guy in theatre?! Sexxx-aayy. Konner was a little too clingy for Keshia though, and they didn't last. He couldn't get over her though, and she would have done anything to get rid of him, so I volunteered myself as a distraction.

On the last day before winter break, I was sitting in the drama room studying for a History exam, when Keshia sent Konner to help me. We flirted; his eyes twinkled; I melted. Then he asked if I would be going on the field trip the next day to see Spam-A-Lot in New Orleans. When I said yeah, he asked if he could hang out with me and sit with me on the bus. I melted again. I mean, I totally kept my composure, and nonchalantly agreed cause I'm totally cool and totally used to guys hitting on me. (Is that considered being hit on? ...I don't really know the definition for that.)
I tried to look super hot that Saturday, a.k.a. I wore a dress that made my boobs look good, a.k.a my boobs were hanging out. He was super Christian (he was planning on a major in "Worship Leadership", which meant that in addition to being Christian, he could sing), but no man can resist womanly wiles. I mean, even Jesus had Mary Magdalene. Also, I found the Christianity very compelling. I missed being religious and yearned to figure out some kind of path for my life, even if it meant submitting to "Someone" else's opinion. I obviously had no clue what was going on.
So we spent that day looking hot together. We held hands and he put his arm around me during the show and basically cuddled on the bus ride home. At one point, our friend Vicky stood up to move to the back because she was on the phone with her mom and couldn't hear her, but Konner stopped her and whispered something in her ear. She shot a startled glance down at our interlaced hands and yelled to her mother, "Teila has a boyfriend!" I cut my eyes to Kyle, and he sheepishly shrugged. "Is that what this is?" I prompted. "Is that what you want?" he asked. I felt like a Taylor Swift song. Like, ohemgee, this boy wanted me, not to suck his dick, but to hold my hand in public and tell me I was beautiful. He was everything I ever imagined in the guy I'd spend forever with. Literally, my dream guy. He looked exactly right: brunette, gorgeous eyes, a little weight--just enough to make me feel like he could protect me; I liked his sense of style, and my friends and I still call jeans with decoration, particularly anything shiny or sparkly, (which I like very much and have a pair of) "Konner jeans"; he had played some football but (have I mentioned this?) was involved in theatre. I reaaalllyyy thought he was gonna be the one. He was going to disprove everything I had ever said about young love being a load of crap, and we were gonna fall in love and get married young and live happily ever after. Except, this was back when I wanted my life to be a Taylor Swift song.

Getting closer

So, things didn't work out with Preston. It wasn't really a sad day.
One of my problems with this blog is the fact that I'm not a very talented writer, and I think to begin with, I wrote in a totally wrong voice. I think I should have added more feelings to each event, but I was so concerned about getting to the situation at hand that I just slapped the information on paper. Or, website.
I can't remember how I felt about Preston dumping me. A little annoyed maybe. I mean, he literally used my words to tell me what was wrong with the relationship: "It shouldn't just be about sex." I think he got scared though. He wasn't ready.
The night before we went on some kind of date, and afterwards he showed me some deserted places he rode his bike around his neighborhood. Can you imagine the dirty fantasies he had about what would happen when he brought a hot girl there? Poor guy got me instead. We parked my SUV on a cul-de-sac in the back of the suburb where a new house was being built. Just to make out. Until it was more than making out, and I found out that this incredibly dorky guy, who is rarely ever going to get laid, is HUNG. I also found out that I wasn't quite as naturally talented at oral sex as I had always hoped I would be. Alas, I am not a sex goddess. Worst realization of my life. Best realization: So glad I didn't have to see his "O" face. I mean, I've gone to school with him for three years, five if you count middle school, and I would not have been able to deal with remembering that every time I saw him.
So, the next morning, instead of a "Good morning" text, I got a "we need to talk" text. I don't really regret it though. I really hope he's gotten something from someone else since then. The poor boy could do better than me. He is the blond version of Sheldon Cooper, but I've always thought he has game. He's really quite cute.

WARNING: TMI

The first time I had sex, my "cherry" never popped. Josh thought I had lied and wasn't really a virgin; I assumed it was from my... previous sexual exploration. Nothing happened the second time either. Fours months later, however, in an intense make-out session against the back wall of his house, Preston slipped his hand in my jeans but had to stop after a few moments because I had started bleeding. I still have no clue what happened, and it was the weirdest thing ever.

When Things Got Kinky

They dated for a couple months. They were in our homecoming group, which included my two dates: Katie, a girlfriend who had been staying with me because her dad was abusive, and (wait for it...) Amanda's younger brother Preston. Shortly after homecoming, Amanda decided to end their long-distance relationship. When Lane didn't come to school the next day, our academic team coach and English teacher, Mrs. Kennedy, surprised us all by saying, "I knew she would break his heart!" I mean, this guy? He was a jerk. It seemed pretty obvious to me that he was the heart-breaker.
Shortly after I somehow found myself crushing on someone else. This guy was, and is, the most typical nerd in the school. He's got it all: braces, buggy eyes, incredibly awkwardly long limbs, spurts of hyperactivity, and an inexplicable talent at math and science. Actually, it's pretty explicable: Preston is the son of math and science teachers. Yes, that Preston. Amanda's brother. I'm not really sure how to explain how I became so attracted to him. Probably because it was the easiest way to get back at Lane.
When Lane found out, his response was, "You realize you have to kiss him, right?" I retorted that we already had, we had made out even. Lane's surprise was delightful.
I still think Preston's cute. He can make me laugh with little to no effort... Well, a lot of people can, but I love his sense of humor. In hindsight thought, the attraction didn't make much sense. I was sworn to secrecy because of the scandal his parents would surely see it as, but my increased visits to their house probably made it obvious. Oh, those visits... I can't say much without being inappropriate, but I will say one thing: those long, lanky limbs came in handy when we were on separate couches and he wanted to reach me. Also, I was his first kiss, and he was the first boyfriend I had kissed. Aren't we cute? We fooled around some, even though I warned him that things were going a little too fast, and he broke up with me after three weeks because: things were going too fast. What can I say? They can't keep their hands off of me!

Just to be clear:

I have more going on in my life than this boy. I have a whole long resume that I've sent to colleges, and no where on it does it mention any boy. Don't judge me based entirely on this.

dumbheiferstupidbitchbackstabbinghoeihateyou

I've been thinking really hard about this one. I looked at Lane and Amanda's "Friendship" on Facebook and had to leave the room after finding when they were FBO "in a relationship." Wow... I'm not pathetic at all.

Amanda is two years older than us and was getting ready to go off to college when she and Lane started dating. She had no problem sharing with me just how much she missed Lee or how much she enjoyed kissing him or what it was like when he stayed the night but they didn't have sex even though she really wanted to. I dealt with it. Kind of. Since she was at school four hours away, it wasn't that hard to just let go and talk to her. She was the only one of my friends who had any interest in sex, so I made the sacrifice because I needed so much to remind myself that I was normal. It sucked. Going to football games with them, hanging out with them, and then going homecoming dress shopping with them. Can you believe that they could be so heartless? Or that I could be so completely idiotic? I agreed to go with her, and then she decided that Lane should be involved because he really wanted to be.

I had asked Amanda not to say anything to Lane about he and I, but she did anyway. Naturally I got some very angry text messages about me running my mouth and sharing his business and lying to him.

I just wanted him to never forget.

Taylor Swift's "Better Than Revenge"

Wait, or maybe,

Taylor Swift's "You Belong with Me" or is that too cliche? Oh well.

I'm trying.

I've gotten to the point where I have to write about Lane's first relationship after our thing, but I'm just not ready. I can't make myself write it. It hurts too much.

Life

You just have to get over it sometimes.

Telling the Bestie

It was really tough. For some. I honestly can't remember telling one of my closest girlfriends, Leah. For my other friend Rebekah, though, it was a big deal. This is the saint that I mentioned before. She led me to Christianity in middle school, although really I see now that I never had a relationship with any God. She was the one I went to when I had problems that I also "prayed" about. I need instant gratification from a real person. I can't just wait for "answers" from a "supreme being", excuse me, "THE supreme being."
I'm a bit of a skeptic now, if you couldn't tell. But even at the time when I had unprotected sex with two guys within half a day of each other without the influence of drugs or alcohol, I was still pretty sure of God's existence and the sacrifice of His Son.
It took me two weeks to tell her. We had hung out pretty much all day (but I can't remember what we did) and were on our way back to her house. At the beginning of the about twenty minute ride, I told her that I had to tell her something. I didn't get it out until we were literally two minutes from her house. The only way I even said it was because she said, "Teila, it can't be that bad. It's not like you're pregnant." I told her that it was only because I had made sure I wouldn't be. She was seriously shocked. She had as much of a "holycrapthingshavechangedwaytoosurprisinglyfast" attitude as I did. And it was relieving to not be the only one. The great thing about my best friend is that she never once cast judgement like so many Christians (and other people, I'll admit; I have just have the most experience with close-minded Christians). Rebekah understood that life happens. She always has. I can call her and complain about judgmental Christians because she knows it's true, she just happens to be better than that--my words, NOT hers. Jeez, I just teared up. (Yes, I am PMS-ing.) That's my cue.