Here's a story that in its own way had a tragic ending. A man I lost my virginity too because I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with went nuts on me, when we had had sex for the first time he went crazy on me, more than his normal, controlling always wanting sex, I'm a sexaholic but not as much as he was. Towards the end of our relationship he would get so angry that he would come close to hitting me, I got out before he did, but he did his own form of abuse upon my mind, mental abuse is cruel and in some ways worse than physical, it lasts for years whereas a broken bone or bruise mends over time, the havoc left upon a mind does not heal, at times it will fester and get worse. How did I not see his crazyness, was I blinded by that hell called love, was I too young to understand, only the perceptiveness of who I am now can really understand.
I guess my first clue into the fact that Hick was a crazy psycho was when I had gotten into a car with our mutual friend, because we were helping them move, he flipped out hugging me and saying he's sorry we have to be separated, we would have only been away from each other for like 20 mins.
The second clue should have been that he would leave me no time for my friends, consuming every ounce of my time. It would get so bad that I would at times have no time for sleep, the amount of time I would have to dedicate to sleep on some nights would be anywhere from 2hrs to 30mins. On a high school student it was very hard on me, my grades started to suffer and so did my friend ships.
Thirdly him pressuring me to have sex with him after he stole my virginity in the passenger seat of his mothers car, a taurus of all damn vehicles, couldn't be something sexy like a damn jeep or hell the bed of his truck, no it was a taurus. I would not want to have sex and he was say 'of all the things I do for you, picking you up and you cant help me out' it would go on for many times like this until I broke down and had sex with him. I got to the point where I hated sex, I hated him but I'd feel so bad that I'd have sex with him disregarding my own personal feelings.
Last but surely not least him telling me he'd kill himself if I broke up with him and further going into descriptions. I got to the point in this relationship where it was either him or I that was going to die, I started to go through scenarios of how I'd kill myself and then him. I Finally ended up breaking up with him and when he jumped in front of my car I couldn't help myself but to try and run his ass over. later he started to stalk me outside my high school, home and work. I quit sleeping at night and spent my time at a local diner, drinking coffee and writing. Not only had I quit sleeping but I had practically quit eating as well, everytime I saw him I'd flip out and start screaming at him.
Even though its been a good four years since I had ended that relationship I still feel myself becoming angry and hating him, I still have no trust in men, of course after this shit who could blame me.
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