Online Hook-Ups... And Break-Ups

"I don't seem to know what my end-game is. I certainly won't be in a physical relationship with any one of these people. They won't be sending me nude pictures and sexy texts..." How wrong I was. For all my lying, the sexy chats and pictures began with one of my online friends. I'm either too good at deceiving now, or maybe I really am desirable. Probably the former. But started it did. Innocent little teasing texts at first. Then the nude pictures and erotic messages.

But like a famous line from a movie I love so dear, I'm like a dog chasing cars. Even if I caught one I wouldn't know what to do with it. And so it was here. All my lying had once again resulted in a trusting girl sharing herself with me. Me. If it can even be called that. Some sick perversion of me. Vikki had done it and now again. Every sultry message like the embodiment of my lies before me.

Just three days after my first sexual encounter with this woman, I decided to end it. I'm just not that kind of guy. I like the mystery, the courtship. I want to date a girl. I'm not even that interested in sex! Every time we finished one of our sessions, I came away feeling dirty. Like scum. And knowing the only way I was in this situation was through lying, it made it even worse. I know it's cliche, but it really was me and not her. I know she wanted more. I knew I could never have it. To be so cruel, she wasn't even my type. I guess I'm just a jerk.

Online Hang-ups

It's a common misconception that the internet is linking us together in these high-tech times. For me, it couldn't be farther from the truth. It's a horrible place for people like me. People who don't necessarily fit into social groups in real life, who are smart and have a way with words. Who are so desperate for everyone to like them and to be what everyone wants them to be, that they'll use the internet as just another mask behind which to hide. That's me.

In real life, girls won't take a second look at me. People won't take a second look at me. It's not because I'm not charming or good looking, but almost as if they can sense it. As if some lingering stench surrounds me. Only a select few seem to move past the outer layer of me, into a place where few people have seen. It's been there all my life. Bullied from a young age, everyone seems to think they can have a piece of me. Even now, with people my own age. No matter how I act - confident or shy, serious or annoying, caring or indifferent - people either don't take me seriously, attack me or let me down. I've never even been on a date.

But online, no one can seem my face. No one can see me. I'm the master of masks and this is my greatest. I can use words and humour and pick any girl I want. I even managed to score myself an online girlfriend, which is further than I ever got in real life. I can be 18 or 20 or 22. I can be the magazine photographer or the apartment-dwelling bachelor. I can be six foot and have perfect hair. I can be what I know people want to hear. What will get me... What will it get me?

I don't seem to know what my end-game is. I certainly won't be in a physical relationship with any one of these people. They won't be sending me nude pictures and sexy texts. We'll never be best friends. And yet I mascaraed around like we will. I try to fit into their view and be what will get them to love me. So I'll be their best friend. But it's not me. It's never me. It's my mask. The real me is all alone, hidden out of view crying. Wondering why he even has to do this to himself. Why he can't be himself. Alone. And yet every girl I meet online I become older and manlier. The mere prospect of beginning an acquaintance with someone as me is terrifying. I guess deep down, I'm hoping against hope that someone will truly see the inner me and love him. That one of these beautiful people online will magically come out and be my best friend. But that's never going to happen. All that's going to happen is the fact I know that not only am I never going to be friends with these people in real life or online in any capacity I'd like, but that the person they're friends with isn't really me in any case!

Thank goodness Andy hasn't asked me my age yet. So far I've been getting into bars with him without being asked for my ID. I'm old enough, but he's nearly 30 and I don't think he knows just how young I am. Even my own body hides me. I'm so young and yet I can pass for someone in their late twenties. Just another way to hide.

I'm the master of masks.

New Beginnings

As the saying goes, in every life there's a time for a reaping and a sowing. And for me, the fronds of my life are just beginning to sprout again, up from the ashes. Looking back over these months of blog posts, I thought I saw a life being undone. Now I see that it is a life being reborn. A time of finding my way, my place, my voice and my heart. Of seeing people fall away and of seeing people rise. From my grandmother's death I was able to start a career. From the losses of my love and my friends, I was able to achieve perspective. Whatever the case, this time in my life has not destroyed me, but left me experienced - somewhat more than I would've enjoyed - but experienced all the same. Reborn from the fire to face it all over again.

You know of my troubles with family and love and life. My time at art school finished with a bang of a similar fashion. It was mostly my fault of course; never seeing the outcome of my lies or actions until they're gone and I'm wishing there was an "undo" button. I asked a girl out, as far as I knew it was for a date, and we went to the cinema. Only there did I find out she had a boyfriend. I flowed with it all the same and when I was asked by my art tutor the next day how my date went, I said it went brilliantly, not naming names. However harmless the lie, time and again I find out that full honesty is the best medicine, no matter how horrible. Had I not shared this lie in the presence of another student, I may still be at art school today. But this was not an ordinary student.

Since I started at the art school, one student, Rick, had had it out for me for no reason at all. My presence annoyed him in his words. As he was a cruel, pot-smoking douche which everyone seemed to like, I tried my best to avoid him as much as possible. But it just so happened Rick was in the carpool on the way to school when I divulged my status-increasing lie to my tutor. So far, so good. Rick looked suspicious, but I felt that my lie went down well and that I'd gotten away with it. But little did I know that it was only the beginning of a chain of events which would lead to a terrible conclusion.

The girl I asked out was a friend of a friend, who I hung out with at school. When that friend texted me about why I hadn't been going to school as much lately, I joked around that I was dying. Hilarious to me. Less so to my friend. Somehow this got around to the girl I went to the movies with and from there, somehow Rick found out about it and then also that I never went on a "date". The car ride to school the next day, to say the least, was tense. Rick claimed that my date was a sham and that I should stop texting the girls. Little did I know that Rick had (at least in my eyes) either a crush on the girl I went to the cinema with and/or a vendetta against me. I passed it off and said that I dated several people, none of which he knew, and that it was none of his business. Luckily my fellow carpoolers bought the story and defended me. I came close to punching Rick that day; in fact I did try and trip him up on the stairs after I found out that the two girls had completely snubbed me and were gossiping. Rick threatened to kill me and I haven't been back since because quite frankly, I know I'll do the prick over and I've spent too long being a good person for him to mess it up.

So you see, once again lies have given me a valuable lesson. A lie to make myself seem more impressive and a joke which was in bad taste. Harmless. To everyone but myself. Time and again the consequences have proven this to me. I'll admit, I was unlucky to tell a lie while in the presence of the one person willing to doggedly disprove it just for the hell of it, but in any case, not telling it in the first place would've saved me a lot of heart ache. So you see, although many things change, some things never seem to. I never seem to learn from these lessons. I always seem to think I'm too smart to get caught lying. Too cunning. In the end I guess I'm not.

The reason I came on tonight was because another of my best friends online simply deleted me and made sure I could never contact him again for nothing more than messaging him and "not leaving him alone". I'll admit, I'm upset. He'd been my friend for more than a year and we'd had some good times together. I just guess that people don't see the world the way I do. I'm loyal and if I have a problem with you, I'll tell you instead of simply cutting you off. I'll be emotionally intuitive. I'll care. As my parents always tell me, the world just doesn't think like that. But in this time of new growth, it doesn't register as a strike against my heart, but as a new leaf of experience for me to grow from. Even as I write, the hurt is going. Probably because I also know that just a new experience comes, so do new friends. Enter Andy.

I spent a solid month lapping up any work I could get my hands on via the local student job search. On one such job I met Andy. We clicked immediately and although he doesn't contact me before I contact him, he seems like a good soul with a good head. Just as my view of people was waning, I find someone who is decent. Someone who doesn't act like a schoolboy, as with Rick or my other friends. Someone who is mature. Thankfully he hasn't asked my age, because if he had when I first met him I'd have probably told him a lie, and I've had too many relationships begin on a lie. It's not that I want to lie. It's just that it's safe within this shell. This mask where I can be whatever you want me to be. Where people take you seriously and don't dismiss you on age or who you date or what you do.

But wear my mask I still do. I'm even lying to my extended family now. After my grandmother died, I was able to acquire a professional camera from her estate. Although I'd rather have my grandmother, it seems almost a gift from her to me so I can have a career. But before long, I just have to taint it. I'm already saying that I've gotten a job at a magazine to my family, friends and even strangers, when the reality is that I haven't even sent in my portfolio. Every time I tell a lie it makes me feel that bit more distant from others.

This new beginning is too brilliant to taint with my lies. It shouldn't just be a new chance to put on new masks to make me feel secure. Maybe I've been burnt again and again to realize that I'm meant to. Maybe I'm not supposed to cover my vulnerability with these masks. Maybe this new chance is just that. A new chance. A chance to feel life as myself, the only version of me I'll ever be. But it's baby steps right now. It's hard to break the habit of a lifetime. I'm still just poking my head through the dirt.

Breathless

Today has been so very hard for me already. From the moment I woke up I've felt this pain in my heart, thinking of Vikki. I can hardly breathe and my lungs feel heavy. The more I've thought about it, the worst it's gotten. No one to talk to with my councillor off duty and no friends or family to confide in, it's been me alone who's had to bear this burden. This cross I bear on my shoulders every day. No one to care enough. And me not giving them the chance to. I can't take this pain any longer. Not knowing what to do or how to fix it. The frustration at not being able to change a damn thing. This marathon I must run every day. I'm sick of running it. Over and over every day. The other runners streaking ahead while I flail helplessly at the back. And just before I finish I'm transported back to the start again.

There must be something I can do or change to feel happy again. Vikki doesn't want to be in a relationship. There's nothing I can do. She obviously cares nothing for my feelings. Nothing I can do there either. Will I ever find love again or be happy? I don't know. Everything out of my hands. I want control! I need the control of my life again!

Even I don't know what I want any more. I just wish I could go back in time and just say "I don't care if you hang out with Dick and Tracy". It would hurt me unbelievably, but maybe if we grew closer together down the road she'd listen to me more later and see it was hurting me. Anything would be better than this. I thought I was out of this rut. This all consuming hole which feeds and feeds on me until I'm nothing but a skeleton stripped bare. Nothing but a shell with tendons and hurt dripping from my flayed flesh. No one cares to help and no one knows to. The person I trusted the most has turned away and I'm left feeling hurt, alone and played. Does anyone care out there? I'm sick of this stupid life. I haven't talked to anyone in days and still they act like I'm fine. I'm sick of talking. Nothing changes. Nothing ever changes. I was alone before Vikki and alone I am again.

I look at people now and I hate them. I hate every inch of them. Their smiles, their laughs. Their love which they get and squander freely. I know how special love is and I would take care of it. But the person I thought would do the same didn't give a fuck. They just didn't care. And now I'm here. Here in this fantasy world of video games and blogs just to keep alive. Because when I'm not pouring what's left of my soul into someone's ear or computer screen, I can't breathe. I can't breathe and I can't live.

Maybe I shouldn't at all.

Sock Molestation

Well, this weekend has been fun. Not only have I graduated, but I also had a great game of cricket and after-party with my team and done a few cool things too. I took my first catch and hit my first boundary - yeah I'm sure that pre-schoolers have hit more than me, but hey, they bowl the ball really really fast. The team went to the pub afterwards and I got shouted my first drink ever - even if it was lemonade since I'm still technically underage. Not long to go now. Not that I'd drink alcohol anyway because I like to stay sharp. But still, it's good to know that you're not restricted in anything you do anymore. Ah, 18 should be fun.

So I bet you're wondering about the weird title of this post. Well, it's just a little aside story which I thought would be fun to share, since my latest posts haven't been all bright and cheerful. Basically, I think my bed socks took advantage of me. That's right - they obviously took advantage of me sleeping blissfully to perform some sort of sordid act on me. I pulled the sheets off this morning to get up and there they were, lying perfectly on top of each other right next my pillow.

I lay there for the longest time just staring at them thinking "What the fuck" and laughing nervously. I mean, I had no recollection of taking them off, and if I had, would they really have been placed so perfectly next to my pillow of all places? The way they were lying there was just too suspicious for my liking - for all I know they could've been smoking a cigarette and enjoying what could've been a very eventful night for them. No one else moved them, yet I surely would've noticed myself doing that in my sleep as I have in the past. I've been interviewing others from my underwear draw to see what the word is on the street, but so far my search is fruitless. Okay okay, so I'm taking the piss a little, but it is quite strange. It's always good to know you have a little gem locked away for dinner parties such as "I got molested by my bed socks". 

No word from Vikki as of yet and I'm sure she's going to use my ultimatum of "Give me answers or there's no chance ever again" as an easy out. Strangely, the bed socks story amongst other things has revitalized me a bit to see the funny side of things again, so I'm not stressing out too much any more. To tell the truth, I'm not even sure I want to be with her myself any more after all the shit she's put me through. I don't think it'd ever be the same. And it's a real shame because at one point, we were quite a team and I really did love her. I can't say for sure now that she felt the same.

I dunno, the periods of happiness and excitement for life have been getting longer and more frequent, while the periods of depression and missing Vikki are growing less and less. It really is the small things - the comic I'm making, cricket games, strange bed socks, even relatives visiting. They all help show there is a life after such a tough time. Sure I still feel sad sometimes, but now, it's getting easier and easier. If I don't hear from Vikki, sure I'll be wondering if there was any chance, but I think I'll cope all the same. I know already that as soon as I decide that I definitely never want to speak to her again that it'll be hard, but I know I'll be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Heck, even me and my dad sorted a lot of things out tonight. We were heading for the mother of all fights, but it really did turn out brilliantly. We talked for a while before sorting out some really major stuff which had been ruin our relationship. Although overall, it still feels like in some respects my life is falling apart, in others, it is completely improving.

I really don't know how to put everything into words (either because it's too complicated or the week's late nights and early mornings are finally catching up with me) but I certainly could not feel this a month ago. Even a few weeks ago. To everyone dealing with a loss out there, take it from someone who was on the very edge that there is a life after everything. I'm probably not one to be giving out advice, but if my story helps other's to see that it may hurt but that you'll make it through, then I'll be very happy indeed. Just go out and find your own team bonding or your own comic to make. Or even at a stretch (and I wouldn't wholly recommend it) some bed socks with strange habits.

And seriously, I still am curious how they got right up near my pillow.

Restless

I can't sleep, nor do I feel like doing so. My mind keeps ticking over and I just can't help the anxiety. It's going to kill me if I don't calm down. I've never entertained the thought that one day, Vikki might not want me. She assured me so much that she wasn't like the other relationships I've had in my life, one-sided and ending with me left holding the pieces. Maybe I was wrong to trust so blindly in someone who has clearly just abused that fact. I feel like a fool. And now what am I to do? Move on? To who? I hardly go out any more since my school went extramural and once the cricket season is over, I'll have no reason to leave at all. Who is going to ever find me shackled to my house? What love and acceptance is ever going to find me there?

The moment Vikki said she didn't care about my age that night, my life changed for the better forever. I'll be forever thankful to her for that. Showing me that someone out there was willing to accept me for who I am and not judge me. To give me a chance and to love me. That is why this is so hard. I am alone on this earth. She was the only one who truly accepted me. She saw me at my worst and at my best and everywhere in between. And she didn't care. This is a real shock to me and if it turns out that she definitely does not want a relationship with me any more, then I'm going to be puzzled for the rest of my life.

If I can give some advice to anyone reading, do not ever fall for someone over the internet and absolutely do not get too deep so fast. And it goes without saying, do not get too deep too fast with someone over the internet. It's a recipe for disaster. And yet in saying that, maybe I'm just the exception. Maybe I'm the only one who can't even keep a relationship afloat. Maybe this relationship would have been doomed even in real life. Maybe. All I know is that I have consumed one pack of corn chips which I didn't even like all that much and that the taste is now residing both gleefully and annoyingly in the back of my throat. I hope it doesn't go to my waist - there should be a law of nature that states no fat should be gained from food eaten whilst wallowing over a lost love.

But then again, life doesn't like me remember...

Life Is Never Fair

All my life I've hated my age. It's like I was born several years too late, always just missing out on all the fun stuff by being too young. Recently I've been reminded of this fact - it's a big cosmic joke and everyone's laughing but me. Everything about me screams that I'm older: I like old music, am mature, wise. Heck I even look older. But I'm only 17.

It's like my soul's been put in a body which isn't mine - I know I'm not meant to be here. When I was 15 I couldn't play cricket for a team until I was 18. All the girls I meet are just that bit older. And I've lived with it - until now, when a situation arose which I know is a slap in the face meant to wound. 

All my life I've felt judged by my age. I was always in the advanced classes, but that meant I was also the youngest in those very classes meant to help me. I was almost never judged by my peers in a positive light, and their only defense needed to be my inadequate age. At the moment, everyone at my university thinks I'm 20 - I'm so scared of being judged by my age and not my birth years, I've put on another mask to hide my real self. Only a select few know my real age, and even then I detect my age becoming a factor in the way they perceive me.

And so it was the case when met an amazing girl online, called "Vikki". When she first asked me my age, I didn't know our friendship would grow into something more beautiful, so naturally I said I was 20. But develop a relationship we did. For most normal people, this would be awesome. For most 17 year olds, there'd be cries of "Score!" to be had. However, all I could muster was guilt and self-loathing. My own defense mechanism had worked against me. Again.

I knew the chances of me ever seeing her were slim, but since she only lives a couple of hours away, she began to say that we would as things got more intense. I know the difference between love and lust, and this was something special. We connect on every level and have a mutual respect for each other. I know that a person like that only comes around once in a lifetime, so I couldn't possibly pass it up.

And then the cogs started turning in my head: She's going to find out eventually, especially if you ever see her. You really love her, why are you lying to her? If you ever want this to work out, you need to tell her you're 17. The problem was actually telling her!

To make matters worse, she's just had a birthday and is now 21, and also has a brother who is older than me. That's a four year age gap and the nagging thought you're banging your kid brother. Life just isn't fair; the one time I find something that is special and mine, something conspires against me to deny me. If I was her age, I'd have no problem at all. We'd be a perfect match. But life's not like that is it.

I don't really care if I get her or not - I'd rather she was happy. And I really don't care if fate has conspired against me again - I'm used to it. What I'm scared of is if she says no, and I never find another soul that completes me as much as hers does. We're only on this earth once, and it'd be just damn cruel to let me lose on such a love to a few years. Love is meant to make you happy. It worked on me for a while, but now it's returned me back down to earth where I obviously belong. Life isn't meant to be this hard.

So I've prepared my speech, practiced my apologies and hoped for the best, but I know no matter how good a person she is, the relationship won't last from this and I'll be left on my own again with no one to love me for me. Get off this blog right now and find your true love - if you already have one, how dare you not be telling them how much you love them right now - because if anything, let my life be a lesson to you. Love is too valuable to waste.