The Whore’s Boyfriend: Our Dysfunctional Relationship

The Whore’s Boyfriend: Our Dysfunctional Relationship

 

            I’m not sure if I believe in love or not. Depends on my mood, I suppose. I was in love with someone else when I met my boyfriend of the past year and a half, and it took me a long time to get past that. I was a junior in school and was recently recovering from something that, to me at the time, was pretty tragic: I had ranaway from home with a boy who I absolutely adored, and then we had almost been killed by my ex boyfriend and his friends. When J started talking to me, it was through Facebook, but I had seen him at school my freshmen year, when he was a senior, and I had also caught glimpses of him at parties I attended with my previous boyfriend. We became friends, and he made me laugh and helped to take my mind off things. He was definitely in the friend zone at first…I wasn’t ready to enter another relationship yet. Then my grandma, who I was closer to than anyone on earth and who had practically raised me, passed away. It was expected, but it still sent my world crashing down. But J was there for me, and he spent time with me and my little sister, helping us to be happy even in this devastating time. I began to develop feelings for him. What amazed me about him was that he never tried to seduce me. He never even hinted at sex. We kissed sometimes, but he never pushed me. In fact, I decided to try to get him to sleep with me, just to test him, and he usually rejected me. It irriated me, but it made me respect him, too. Over time, I cracked his willpower, and he did sleep with me even though we weren’t dating yet.After though, I was upset and grew angry with him, refusing to speak to him for a couple of days even as he begged me to talk to him, but then I realized how irrational I was being, and resumed our friendship. The night before Christmas
Eve that year, I asked him out, and we began dating, to the irriation of many of my exs and his family. I don’t think I was ready for a committed relationship, and I acted very immature sometimes, but he put up with it. We argued quite a bit, but we always made up, because he was too stubborn to just let me walk away. I noticed soon that he had a volatile temper, and would lash out if provoked too much, which scared me because my ex had hit me a few times, and I didn’t really want to go down that road again.

 

            Like I said though, I was in love with someone else when me and J first got together. An azured eyed pretty boy, who was almost killed because of me and whose mother had relocated him to Vegas just to keep him away from me. I didn’t realize then that this guy had played me and lied to me, and we started talking again. I had always been honest with J about my feelings for this boy, and he knew how much love and anguish existed there. (This boy was not the guy who had hit me- that was the guy who attacked us when we ranaway.) Anyway, I went all the way to Vegas to see him, leaving J heartbroken, but soon got caught and sent back home. Me and J ended up back together, although I had to see him with another girl for awhile first, and all was fine. He was really romantic, at times, making picnics for me up on the hill and renting musicals for us to watch. He tried to be nice to my family, and cooked for us sometimes, and we were together almost everyday. Then the summer came, and I started drinking alcohol, to mostly drown my feelings and so I didn’t have to admit that I was a failure for dropping out of school. Me drinking eventually led to me being thrown out of my house, and J tried to help me, but his family detested me and he too ended up homeless. Then I found out about backpage, and a million other awful things happened, but I ended up being an escort and we lived in a hotel together. When we were homeless, we had broken into an abandoned house and stayed there, after having lived with friends, but we were caught and arrested, a fact which was well publicized online.

            Me being an escort has always put a strain on the relationship. What kind of guy is okay with his girlfriend sleeping with other guys? I know he didn’t want me to do it at first. I know it bothers him almost as much as it does me. I also know, that he likes the money. Yes, there have been days when he has forced me to work, even though I didn’t want to, but that hasn’t happened in awhile. The night we got busted though? He was mad at me and was getting a client there to punish me. Too bad we both ended up in jail. Every time we have an argument, it’s the first thing to get thrown up in my face. “You fuck thousands of guys, of course I’m not attracted to you,” “You’re just a whore,” etc. All kinds of hurtful things that he swears later he didn’t mean. He handles the texting a lot, and the pricing…I wonder how he does it. The thought of him with another girl is impossibly frightening to me, and knowing he’s as possesive and jealous as me, I don’t see how he can do what he does. He makes it harder on me though, barely letting me drink, not letting me ever hang out with clients as friends, not wanting me to have guy friends even my old ones, keeping me away from drugs (although that one may be a good thing), and often cursing out people over text, just because he loses his temper. Still, we go on dates and we play videogames together and take silly pictures and we tell each other most of our feelings and try to stay in love.

 

            There’s a dark side to him, too. He can be very verbally and physichally abusive when he finally explodes. I never know just when it may happen, but I always end up in tears,begging him to stop. I believe he loves me, and that he genuinely is making an effort to stop that behavior, but I’m always walking on eggshells, worried that he’ll lapse back into that cruel nature of his. I can be hard to live with at times, but so can he…we’re both pretty messed up people. No one would believe what a monster he could be if they just saw us together 99% of the time, but he can be pure evil. He virtually blacks out, and flips, and although he apologizes and usually calms down fairly quick, I do worry for my life. It hasn’t happened in awhile, and no matter what you tell me, I’m not likely to leave, but I’d be lying about my life if I didn’t explain our relationship truthfully…he’s a big part of who I am.

 

            Sometimes I do leave. I always come back. How can you say he doesn’t love me, when most of the time he struggles to make me happy, nurtures me when I’m sick, and puts up with so many things I do wrong. I believe in our relationship, at least to some degree. It’s not perfect, but it’s the only thing I really have to hold on to anymore. At least he knows me inside and out, more so than anyone else does. I’m not sure we’ll be together forever, or end up married, or what. I’m smart enough to know how unhealthy this is, and still I choose to stay. Just another sad part of my warped little world…

Typical Day In My Life…More Mundane Than You May Think

A Typical Day In My Life

 

Not nearly as dramatic as you may think.

 

            It’s about 4 PM and I’m just waking up. I usually stay up late at night, I love night time better. Definitely a nocturnal person. I lay back down for a moment and cuddle up against my boyfriend, who’s starting to open his eyes now also. I consider going back to sleep, but with a resigned sigh wake up and face the day ahead of me. The first thing I do is go clean up whatever mess my black lab puppy and my orange tabby cat have made in the hotel room. Usually there’s plenty of stuff chewed up and broken, because animals are extremely difficult and messy. From there I vaccuum, take the trash out, feed the pets, and spray some air freshner, then I go take a hot bath and shave everywhere, wash my hair, and go put on my make up and get dressed. I come back out and fix me something to eat and come check my Facebook and my email. For most of the day, I sit at my laptop watching Netflix, writing poetry, photoediting pictures, and reading fanfiction. I listen to music a lot…that’s my main coping strategy, and I love all types, though my favorite band is Marilyn Manson. Sometimes, I pace relentlessly back and forth across the room with my Mp3 player in, something I have done to help me think since as far back as I can recall. I talk to my little sister on Facebook, and ask how she is, and sometimes give her and my aunt a call, because they’re the only family I have. And then, often, a client will text, or if no one does, I’ll post an ad on Backpage after carefully looking at some of the other ads and prices to know what to say in mine. I try to be careful not to say anything too sexual or notable, but enough to lure in people to get the money I need for rent, food, and whatever else I may want or need at that time. Eventually people will text, and ask questions, or I may see one of my regulars. They text when they’re here and my boyfriend leaves the room to go wait outside and I put on something sexy and readjust my make up and light some candles as I wait for the knock on the door. I look through the peephole, preparing in case there are police there, and then I open the door with a big fake smile on my face and exchange pleasantries, and names, before sitting down on the client bed and telling them to place the money on the table, if they would please, because many people try not to pay if I wait till after to ask for it. Most of them are nice; some of them are anxious; some are very rude. Usually it starts with kissing and both of us stripping naked, but others rush right into the deed and finish fast, leaving as soon as they are done. Others like to prolong it, as much foreplay and talking as possible, before me sucking them and then putting a condom on so they can sleep with me. I’m very quiet during sex normally, but I have to fake moans and screams of pleasure for these strangers, and do things however they want them done. I sometimes have to pretend to orgasm also, because they have this idea in their head that I should be enjoying this, too. Then it’s over, and they get dressed, and some of them will sit down and try to talk. A few tell me I shouldn’t be doing this, that I’m a sweet girl and deserve more, or they try to rag on my boyfriend, who many know about, and say he should be working and providing for me. I smile politely and speak respectfully to them until time is up and they leave. Then I lose my smile and rush to the bathroom to brush my teeth and soak in the bath tub, mourning the fact that I have to do what I do. My boyfriend comes back, walks in to the bathroom, and gives me a sympathetic look, asking if I’m okay and if everything went alright and whether they paid the price they were supposed to. Sometimes he gets in the tub with me, and we talk and he holds me and tries to make me feel better, but I do pull away from his touch now and then, because some days, I just hate all men, even him, and never want to be touched again. Sometimes that’s the only call for the night- others, this process is repeated a few times. Then I turn the TV to Cartoon  Network, and watch Family Guy and American Dad, and sometimes pour a mixed drink composed of Vodka and a fruity mixer, and go back to being on the laptop or listening to music. Then around 4 or 5 am, my boyfriend and I are both ready for bed, and we cuddle and sometimes have sex, and then I take Benadryl or Nyquil to help me sleep, because I’m always restless and have trouble falling asleep. That’s basically my day. I keep the room clean all day, and my boyfriend usually cooks dinner around 7 or 8 PM, and I sometimes walk my puppy on the beach or go to the playground and play on the swings, even though I’m too old for that. On special occasions or when we have spare money, we go to see a movie or go shopping or mini golfing or hang out with friends, few that we have. The most money I have ever made in one day is 880 dollars, but that is very rare. I pay 200 a week to stay at the hotel I’m at, and have to hide my cat so I don’t get thrown out. And we spend about 200 a week on food and stuff, also. The cost of living is expensive. But my life, despite some parts, isn’t really all that abnormal. Is it? Some days I don’t even work, if I don’t need the money or if no one wants to come by. I even go to chuch some Sundays, unbelievable as that sounds. My point is, I’m still human. I may have an alcohol problem and work as a prostitute, among also struggling with bulimia and my sometimes unhealthy relationship with my boyfriend, but I still do a lot of very mundane things as well. One day, I hope to fit in with normal society again…I don’t think I’m too far gone just yet.