Dating While Young

My 7 Day Relationship Taught Me That Love Is Not Something That I Was Ready For

I was 18 years old when I dated a 20 year old boy that I thought was my ideal until I snapped out of it.

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My last relationship was 4 years ago and only lasted a week. I figured a few things out when I broke up with him.

I did not feel secure.

I did not feel safe.

I was not in love with him.

This is the part where you think "Then why did you date him?"

Well...


At the age of 18, I was in and out of my first relationship that lasted only 3 months (he was in love with my sister... let me tell you that is a whole other story). Anyway, I was single for a month after he broke up with me when I met this guy. My sisters didn't like him and I didn't understand why.

The first day we went bowling and he kissed me without asking but my first boyfriend did the same so I thought, "ok, this is normal." I was enthralled with the feeling I was feeling with him and was essentially drunk on the feeling so I went with the flow on everything he did, even wrestling me. I thought he was just playful so I played around with him but he always put in too much strength and it hurt but a manageable pain so I didn't say anything.

The second day he came over with flowers and I loved it but it was less exciting but still fun. We hung out in the Living Room because my sisters didn't like him. We took a nap on the couch after 'wrestling' again, ate again and he left after about 20 kisses. Normal, right?

The Third day is when I started to come down from my high. He kept coming over in his free time and brought me small things like a package of cheese crackers or washi tape, which I see now was really weird. Like the last 2 days, we hung out and he tried to convince me to go further with him but I was coming down from my high and wasn't feeling the excitement or attraction as much anymore so I said no. He seemed to accept it and we continued to hang out and he wrestled me again and attacked my knees (I had surgery on both knees so I am especially weak there). I told for him to stop but he thought it was funny and dug his fingers into the back on my knees and it hurt so much. I kept telling him to stop but he didn't. When he stopped, I kept myself from crying and he left.

On the fourth day, I told him not to come over because I wasn't at home but he still stopped by and knocked on the door. I pretended not to be there. Around mid-afternoon, when I took a shower, everything hurt and I saw bruises everywhere on my legs, behind my knees and all over my arms and a huge blue and black bruise on my stomach from where he "playfully" hit me. That night, I consulted my sisters and my big sisters best friend who introduced me to him. Even he said I should break up with him. I was still uncertain because he depended on me emotionally and reinforced that whenever he was over, saying how lucky he was to have me and all.

The fifth day, he came over during his break and after work. I was teetering on the edge at this point and said "no wrestling" but he wrestled me to the floor and was smiling, laughing as I said it as a joke. My sisters best friend always came over with him because they both worked at Walmart so he stopped him and had a chat with him while I watched TV and a few minutes later he sat beside me. He talked to me for a while and I didn't want to be rude and tell him to leave so I gave my sister the signal and she walked over and told him he couldn't be here after a certain time. He whined about wanting to stay but finally left.

The sixth day was horrible. He invited me out so I thought that we were going out to eat and thought maybe he realized how he has been. No! He brought me to a fire station so that he wouldn't be alone when he applied to be a volunteer and I was bored out of my mind. The bad part is that that wasn't even the last straw yet. No, I didn't tell you but he drives a moped and when we left it started raining. The *sshole had the capacity (just learned this word) to take the long way back so I was soaked to the bone by the time I got home. I guess he could tell I was angry and just left without saying bye. Whatever! I knew what I had to do.

The seventh and LAST day he came over and I didn't want to drag it out any longer than needed. I avoided his kiss and he got angry. I told him we had to talk and I made sure my big sisters burly best friend was there in case he got violent or whatnot. I point-blank told him "I cannot keep going out with you. I don't know if we were dating or not but it has to end right now." He stood up and said "I thought we had something between us, you b*tch" and I haven't seen him since.

It was later when I realized a lot of things about myself and this helped me move on. I realized I was only in love with the idea of being in love. I look back at that boy and don't see anything attractive to me now.

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