Deception Ebook EPUB 3-17-2014

by Deception (epub)

  “Right. I think it’s best that we are just friends – for now.”

  “Why?” I looked at him, not comprehending. “There’s nothing wrong with us. Did I do something wrong? You always said you loved me.” It wasn’t as if we had fought or anything. What was happening?

  “I thought I did, but now I don’t have feelings for you. Actually, your name is in the bottom part of my heart,” he said bluntly.

  I burst into tears.

  He stood awkwardly and said, “I think I better go now.”

  After he walked away, I sat down on the steps to the administration building next to the lot where his car was parked, and stayed for I don’t know how long. Why had he chosen this night to break up? Couldn’t he have waited until after the homecoming weekend?

  “Are you okay?” my dorm counselor asked when she found me there, hugging my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks. She sat next to me and asked: “Did someone say something cruel to you about your being a princess?”

  “No, it’s not that.”

  After several minutes of silence, she asked, “Do you want to talk?”

  “No.” We remained silent for several more minutes before she said we needed to return to the dorm.

  The following day – our homecoming – David and I acted as if nothing had happened. No one knew. I went through the day with a fake smile.

  “Hey, I want to take a picture of you two,” people kept saying, so we posed. We looked good together – a football player and a junior homecoming princess.

  By the following Monday morning, everyone knew our relationship had ended.

  Chapter 14

  Fall 1983 to Spring 1984

  It had never occurred to me that there might be a time when David and I would not be together. Immediately after our break-up, it wasn’t so bad. We continued to do the things we had normally done: eating, talking, and laughing together. But then, he would ignore me for weeks at a time. Eventually he would come back, telling me how much he missed me. “Just a hug, please,” he would beg, and that often led to a kiss. Some days, he would say that he still loved me. Other times, though, he would say that he didn’t even know what love was.

  After four months of this back-and-forth, he got a new girlfriend. To my horror, Elena snatched his jacket from my room without asking. It was a piece of clothing that had become my property, and I wanted to keep it. But the betrayals continued. My circle of close friends began to report their doings and whereabouts, assuring me that they were on my side. They were trying to be helpful, but none of us realized that I was better off not knowing all the details.

  I was an emotional wreck. I never knew I was capable of crying so much. Everywhere I went, I cried – and couldn’t stop. I cried in my dorm room, in the bathroom stall, in between classes, in the gym during practice, and in the classroom. Teachers, staff, and coaches were concerned about me, but no one really pushed me to talk; not that I would have opened up easily. Instead, they would tell me to try and forget him, or to focus on more important things, such as schoolwork. Perhaps everyone left it for my parents to handle. Or perhaps they assumed I would confide in my parents. Sadly, Mom’s typical response to my tears was: “You still cry over David? Get over it. There are plenty of boys out there.” I couldn’t talk to Dad either. Though he was more on the soft side, he wouldn’t know what to say. Neither one of them was capable of helping me cope with my overwhelming feelings. The only one who really listened was my overweight, smooth-haired dachshund, Cocoa. I would hold him against my chest, and he would lick my tears. It was as if he understood my pain.

  While I was at school, I journaled about my heartache. I would write down my feelings in a blue spiral notebook – the same one I used for taking notes in one of my classes. I’d decided the best way to move forward was to just ignore David, so I quit talking to him altogether. I was worried about the busy spring, and how I would handle getting through all those important events without him, especially prom. I just couldn’t believe I wouldn’t be going with David. Since my freshman year, my friends and I had watched the upperclassmen gather in front of the water fountain for pictures – a prom tradition. Excitement was evident, and I had looked forward to my turn, with David.

  On May 15, I wrote in my diary:

  Prom is coming in two days. I don’t know how I’ll react. Maybe I’ll cry. Maybe I’ll not. I forgot what it’s like to hold his hand. It’s hard. I still love him, and I guess I still want him back.

  Two days later, I wrote:

  I’ve been worried sick about today since February. I thought I would cry and cry. But I didn’t. It’s amazing. I guess I got used to seeing them together. David looked good. Seven months of crying was enough. I look forward to summer, that’s when I’ll not cry for three whole months. Good way to get back to my old self.

  To my surprise and delight, David broke up with Elena a few days after the prom. After forty-three days of silence, he begged me to talk to him. I gave in. On May 23, I journaled:

  So great talking to him! Walked with him from gym to cafeteria. We talked, but I left, because I didn’t want him to think he has me to himself too much. We laughed … I wish I could have him back. Everyone asked if we got back together. I wish. Thank you, God.

  I thought I was getting stronger, but I was mistaken. I had foolishly let him hug and kiss me, only to learn that he didn’t want me back. My crying spells returned, and I cried for four straight days. Again, I vowed that I would never speak to him! I was back to square one.

  This time a teacher showed real concern. He asked if I wanted to talk. “No, I’m fine,” I responded, though I frequently thought about his offer during the first two weeks of my summer vacation. Perhaps, he is the one I could talk to.

  After writing several drafts, perfecting each version, I finally folded the letter, sealed it in an envelope, addressed it to him, placed it in our black mailbox, and raised the red flag.

  Chapter 15

  April 1989

  I quickly realized it was a waste of time to look for the perfect dress. The most beautiful ones were very expensive. And I couldn’t justify that, especially knowing it would only be worn less than eight hours.

  As Mom and I stood in the room filled with racks containing hundreds of white and ivory dresses, I instructed her, “Look at each price tag before pulling it off the rack.”

  We had traveled to a bridal store in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, hoping that the prices would be cheaper than in Hagerstown, our hometown. Instead of looking for the perfect dress, I hunted for the best price possible. Not what most brides would normally do, but for me, it was the way we did things.

  The sales lady made such a fuss when I stepped out of the dressing room in one of the dresses. Would she tell me honestly if the dress didn’t look good on me? I wondered. She led me to an area surrounded by tall panels of mirrors. I looked at myself in the reflection and I had to admit: I looked pretty, although I would have preferred a different style and design.

  “It’s perfect,” Mom said.

  Mom did not have a wedding dress when she married Dad. I had seen the picture. Mom wore a navy blue skirt with a matching jacket, and Dad wore his black suit. When I was a little girl, I was puzzled as to why she didn’t have a traditional white dress. After I peppered her with questions, Mom finally showed me a thick laminated newspaper clipping that she had hidden under the lining in her drawer. The newspaper contained a picture of Mom in a beautiful wedding dress announcing her marriage – to a different man. Why she kept the clipping was beyond me.

  My questions didn’t stop there. Mom shared with me horror stories of what her first husband did to her, which led to a divorce ten months later. She insisted that I keep this a secret from my siblings, which I have never violated. Mom eventually told my siblings about her divorce when they were older, but I don’t think she shared the sordid details.

  Secrets. Th
ey’re nothing new. Everyone has secrets, I suppose. I have mine.

  Chapter 16

  Summer 1984

  July 10

  Dear Debbie,

  It was great getting a letter from you. You really do write a nice letter. It appears that you would rather write to me instead of talk. I guess that is okay, just as long as we communicate, that is the important thing.

  I don’t think what David thinks is important. What you think and feel is important. You have to decide if you want him back or not. It has to be your decision. Only you can decide that.

  I think if you let yourself, you’ll get over David, but you have to let yourself. I think you are a great person for still liking him after the ways he has hurt you this past year. Most girls would end up hating him.

  I told you before, I am always willing to listen to you. I like you more than you realize and our conversations are completely secret and safe with me. Just don’t build a stone wall between us.

  Have a nice vacation. Thanks for writing – keep it up.

  * * *

  July 16

  Debbie,

  It was really nice hearing from you, and I did not need a cup of coffee to help me keep awake. Like I told you, you write a beautiful letter. I really enjoyed reading it. You have excellent language skills.

  You can still relax and have your mind on David. That is not a real problem. However, you do have to keep your mind open and let yourself think of other things. I know it is not easy, but I’m sure you can do it.

  Maybe David did love you once. In fact, I’m sure he did. But times change and people do too. It appears that David changed for some reason and stopped “loving” you. From what you said in your letter, your relationship with him was very normal. Most teenage relationships go through the same stages that you and David did.

  From what you’ve said, it seems as if David is taking advantage of you. You had told me that you and he did not go all the way, but the day you went to David’s house is unclear. Did you finally “go all the way” or just touch? It appears David knows when he has a good thing. He knows that you still like him and will accept him back anytime. So when he is [lusting] and wants some loving, he comes back to you. I think you have to set the rules.

  I know you want him back, but for your sanity and reputation, you can’t let him come back only when he wants to “touch” you. If he wants to kiss you then he has to come back as your boyfriend, not as a person you know.

  You are not a cheap girl, but if you continue to let David do what he wants, you will become cheap. David knows that you are very pretty and have a nice body and he does not want to lose a good thing, so he keeps you hanging on so that he can have you when he wants you.

  That is why I said for you to set the rules. You’ll have to control the relationship. Also, I wouldn’t chase him or call him. If he wants to come back, he should play by your rules. David is right about one thing, friends don’t do things like that.

  The reasons for breaking up – well, what you have listed are good reasons. The reason that sooner or later you’d have sex and both of you didn’t want that is really not a good one, because like I said, you and David were going through stages in your relationship just like other couples do. You both would become more flexible and you both would want it. You may feel guilty afterward, but you would still want it. That is very normal.

  I think that the reason he called you was because he felt guilty – a little bit. I don’t think it was because he still loved you. There are different kinds of taking advantage, and in this situation he is taking advantage of you and your feelings.

  I think that David’s attitude would change a lot if he knew that he could not get you whenever he wanted to get you.

  I hope I’ve made some sense to you. You know I prefer to talk. And I am glad that you didn’t throw the letter away like the others. See, you should have written me a long time ago.

  Hope to hear from you soon. Say hi to your parents for me.

  Someday I’ll ask you to define touching, etc.

  * * *

  July 31

  Dear Debbie,

  Well, I’m back from our vacation.

  I know that being needed by friends is not the same as a boyfriend or girlfriend. People always need to be loved. There are very few people in the world who do not need to be loved.

  I never knew about your parents, that is a surprise. I never would have guessed that. Well, you can always start by hugging them. Maybe they don’t know how; you can teach them. You start hugging them and see what happens. I know you don’t like to let me hug you. Each time I try you always push me away. Maybe because it is like you said, I’m “a male teacher.” Or is it because I am old and fat?

  I know that it does feel good to get some love and attention. We all need it … including male teachers – fat and old. Ha, ha!!!

  I think one problem you have is that you have too many people keeping you informed about David and what he does, who he talks to, and so on; if you know what I mean. People should leave you alone. I think that will help.

  I’ll never ask you to define touching – enough said!!!

  Take care, write soon!!!

  * * *

  August 13

  Dear Debbie,

  It was nice having two letters waiting for me when I got back. Sorry I didn’t answer your letter, but I had to make a quick trip to see my brother and was not able to let you know. Of course I like writing to you. Don’t be silly.

  About the hugging, well, of course you let me hug you on the last day of school; everyone was hugging you, you didn’t have a choice. I always have a reason for hugging you – I CARE!!! And I want to let you know that you always have a friend in me, and if you can’t or won’t hug your parents, you can always hug me. You can try to help your parents. Maybe they need to be shown how to hug their children – try it. It’s never too late.

  Good luck with your job, if you got it. What is it and what will you be doing? You didn’t say in your letter.

  I hope that you try thinking positive regarding yourself and your relationship with David. I think it is very important for your sake. Like I said in one of my other letters, you have to set the rules and control the situation. You cannot let the situation control you. David will take advantage of you if you let him. He can’t take advantage of you if you don’t let him. You have to understand that and follow through with it.

  Couple of questions: Would it really be the end of the world if David never came back to you? What would you do and how would you feel if you and David never got back together?

  You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just surprised that you are still that upset about David. The pain should be less by now.

  Take care. Say hi to your parents and granny too.

  Hug them!!!

  * * *

  I responded to his letter with a poem.

  Avoiding his hugs

  When he asks, “What is wrong?”

  I tell him, “Not important enough for you to know.”

  He was hurt.

  It hurts me to know I hurt him.

  When I needed to talk, I wrote him notes because

  I just couldn’t talk to him.

  Since I prefer to write instead of talk, he said,

  “As long as we communicate, that is the most important thing.”

  Then, I wrote him a nine-page letter

  Telling him almost everything.

  It may be the dumbest thing I ever did

  But he said that I wrote a beautiful letter

  And that I had excellent language.

  What a relief!

  Since he said I could trust him,

  I started to express my feelings

  And he shared his opinions.

  After getting his first letter,
r />   I looked forward to the next one.

  His last letter arrived two Wednesdays ago–

  He talked about the subject of hugging.

  I wrote him back telling him

  I don’t mind him hugging me.

  Yes, it’s true.

  I’ve always enjoyed his affection

  But I never wanted him to know.

  Don’t ask why – I don’t understand it myself.

  I also told him,

  “Please remember: if you are doing it for my sake,

  Please don’t write.”

  Maybe I wanted to hear him saying,

  “No, I love and enjoy writing to you.”

  I sent him the letter and didn’t hear back.

  I wrote him another one.

  Telling him I wanted to see or call my loved one.

  And that it wasn’t fair for my loved one not to be my good friend.

  Oh, I was upset by then.

  Now, I haven’t heard back from him and

  I wonder why he didn’t write.

  Getting his letters meant a lot to me.

  I guess I grew to love him

  Not in a romantic way

  But I love him as if he is my dad!

  Since I didn’t get his letter,

  I might not write another one.

  Then, I started to daydream a lot about my loved one.

  I started to cry once in a while because

  I wanted to see or call my loved one.

  Oh, why didn’t he write?

  I’ll push him away

  When he tries to hug me.

  I’ll say, “Not important enough for you to know,”

  When he asks what’s wrong.

  Writing him letters,

  I felt so much better.

  Not until I haven’t heard back,