(click the link above to start from part one)
Things continued on with me and Amy for about six months before things soured. I believe the majority of the blame was my fault. I'm not proud of the young man that I was. I was a horny jerk who did not appreciate her kindness. Fortunately, we never had sex. Somewhere between my own moral upbringing and a consummate fear of getting her knocked up kept me from going too far.
I remember my dad warning me that he wasn't sure she was the right girl for me and that I needed to be careful to not get too physical. Dad was really wise about this because just telling me not to see her would not have worked, instead he approached it like I was another man about to make a mistake that he wanted to warn me about. When he said that I had this eyes-wide-open daymare of her pregnant, us living in a lousy mobile home with dirty faced kids running around our feet and me working at Radio Shack to bring home barely enough to live on. Meals of Kraft macaroni and cheese placed on a dirty particle-board table and her looking more haggard every day. I saw her becoming less and less kind and more unattractive every day, and my plans for a good life ebbing away. I don't know where the vision came from but I shuddered and re-thought my plans for carnal pleasure.
The other thing that may have caused me to break up with her was that I didn't respect her. She allowed me to be rude, she always did what I wanted to do, and she never spoke up for herself. She was kind of a doormat, just so she could have a boyfriend. She was actually as desperate to have love as I had been.
I discovered we were such different people. I loved books, writing, and programming computers. She was just a teenage girl who loved to gossip on the phone, buy new clothes and listen to top 40. When we weren't making out or on a date, just talking, I had this feeling we weren't on the same page. She didn't like to talk about anything particularly deep, or understand that much.
Before I broke up with Amy, I had become the equivalent of a married man. What I mean by that is that other girls flirted with me because either they thought I was safe and wouldn't respond, or because they were interested. I started wondering if the grass would be better on the other side of the fence. I remember one of the girls I used to eat lunch with called me one night, and we had a conversation that made up my mind for me. I trusted Sonya because she had always been straight with me and turned me down as a boyfriend the year before, but stayed a real friend.
"Hey Sonya, What's up?"
"So, you and Amy are pretty serious I hear."
"Well, we're going steady, but nothing more than that."
"that's not what I hear."
"Amy and her mom have plans for you. Big plans."
"What do you mean?"
"Marriage, dummy! She's telling other girls that you're in the bag. That her and her mom are talking about how you guys will get married after you graduate!" I said bye, and hung up the phone numbly. There was a re-run of my daymare, then I knew what I had to do.
The next day I told her I didn't want to want to go with her anymore, I didn't have any good reasons. I told her we would still be friends. She cried, and I felt about two inches tall. Of course, after this all of the girls that had flirted and acted so friendly all became cold and irritable. They had all circled the wagons, and I was the lone Indian in their sights. It was a rough couple of months until summer break.
More after Easter...
Thanks for reading,
Purgatory: A place of suffering and torment with an unknown duration. In Roman Catholic Theology-the place where the dead are purified from their sins.
By Rage Against The Machine