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Pretty good story
Pretty good story
Thanks, broThe part of my story I like best so far is the masturbation scene. I'll continue writing it of course and Im just having a short break now, because I'm really feeling depressed at the moment. Leigh literally killed my sexual self and turned me into such a wimp who doesn't even dare to approach any females anymore, yet I don't hate her... She kind of made me a celibate and I'm enjoying my celibate life, and as I said in the story, Leigh was a mav fan and she still is a mav fan I believe, and the common love for them mavs would prevail over everything. The happiest moment in my life was when Dirk lifted that O'Brien trophy in that June of 2011, and I believe that was also her happiest moment in her life
dude you tried to say that you're not obsessing over this ? and then you post that^...10 years later after that ever forgot you even existed and she's still impacting your way of life. time to get over it tbh man up.
I got over it a long time ago imho. I'm feeling depressed but that's more because of the lack of success in my life (compared to my goddess) rather than anything. When my goddess was 25 she had already been nominated 4 times for Golden Globe, yet at that same age I'm still wasting my time and my parents' money on a useless ty degree
I've never had any interest in any es in my real life, except Leigh, like she was my first one and also the last one... I was probably born to be a celibate, I think, and I pretty much enjoy my celibate life now. I'm even kind of grateful to Leigh for helping me complete the final stage to make myself a celibate, so I don't need to work hard like a dog now saving money to buy my house and to get married with a .
In fact I never really wanted to make her my girlfriend or something, I just wanted to be a friend of hers just like a brother and a sister, like my goddess and Chris Evans. Guys married to pretty girls are more prone to being cheated on, so even if I were not a celibate I'd rather marry an average-mediocre looking girl rather than a nice-looking scarlet woman (like Leigh), tbh.
you're a liar though, you always revert back to this^ after being called out for this: "because I'm really feeling depressed at the moment. Leigh literally killed my sexual self and turned me into such a wimp who doesn't even dare to approach any females anymore"
you're in denial my
Yup, I have to admit that for a LONG period of time during my college years I felt rather depressed because of Leigh, but I got basically over it in my sop re year when I started to appreciate the beauties of other females, like Halle Berry. I really learned a lot from Leigh, from the obsession that I once had. The tuition was big but I could still afford it tbh.
It's Jenkins, a classmate of mine in primary school, who's still suffering the impacts that Leigh inflicted on his life. Jenkins was in a relationship with Leigh from their 3rd year in high school, up until their junior year in college imho. They went to different colleges located in different cities so that their "relationship" was only maintained by phone and computer, which was tenuous and miserable. And one thing my friend Jenkins has yet to known is that, while he was in relationship with Leigh during their first 2.5 (maybe less than 2.5, im not sure) years in college, that was actually "dating" another dude basically the same way. Leigh's relationship with that dude began in the summer of high school graduation, so it was basically like, she was in relationship with TWO (or maybe even more) guys simultaneously. for maybe 2 or 3 years because I didn't know how long her relationship with that dude had lasted. But I was sure it lasted for at least one year, because I once saw her and that dude riding bikes together near our highschool during summer vacation between rookie and sop re years.
I just want to tell my friend Jenkins the true nature of Leigh (or a typical woman), and let him know what a she is, but I couldn't tell him straight away because it would be too heavy and too awful for him to bear. So I decided to write this short novel for him, which I've figured out as probably the best way to help him get over it.
Worst.....thread....ever
This girl ruined and is still ruining your life
My life was pretty much ed up for quite a long while but my goddess rescued it tbh. And today is her birthday, Nov. 22 (it's already Nov. 22, Eastern time)
Happy Birthday, Goddess
You're stuck in delusional arrested development I wish u the best
Part Three – College
Chapter Seventeen
It was the longest summer vacation I had ever had as a student. It was indeed the longest, and it felt much longer to me than it actually was. Insomnia became a problem to me that summer, like I could always wake up at midnight and couldn’t fall back asleep again, a problem that would last for five years plus until I got the eventual cure – the genuine affection for my goddess. So when I had a hard time falling asleep, I’d just sit by the desk in the dim light of a lamp, open my album and look at the group photo of our class upon graduation – the only photo where I could see Leigh, and also the only thing reminiscent of my high school memory.
Leigh was standing there, in the second row, second from the right. She was dressed in the school suit just like everyone was, yet she always looked so beautiful whatever she wore. Her hair was well combed, soft and delicate. Her hair was loosely tufted behind, leaving out a free fringe that covered more than half of her forehead. Her eyebrows were thick and bold, just like mine, and her eyes so clear and nice. A light smile cured her mouth upwards, decorated by a shallow dimple on each side near the corner of her mouth. Her lips were fleshy and sensual just like my goddess’s, and also the beyond-age serenity displayed on her cute face.
But her portrait was so small on the photo. I wanted to magnify it, to make it the size of a real face. So I opened the drawer and began rummaging in it, and luckily I found everything I needed, a pencil, an eraser and a stack of paper. It was a tough mission, however, especially for someone who had never received any training of it, even if I only wanted to draw a colorless drawing. I began practicing it regardless, and I had no idea how many pieces of papers and erasers I had wasted, or how many nights I had stayed up doing this.
I felt tired and lightheaded, but the fatigue of my body would always suc b to the strong passion that came all the way up from my heart and the desire to send my work to Leigh someday, with the forlorn hope of impressing her, or even moving her… I knew where her home was, and she would be home for summer vacation so that I would be able to sneak my finest work into her home through the crevice under the door, with my name signed on it, Rogue Smith… Would she think of me when she saw my signed drawing, and would she change her mind on me and give me another chance?
One summer of training was obviously not enough for me to acquire the ability to draw anything that I could be satisfied with, but fortunately I’d still have at least one semester to spend honing my skills, and a good friend of mine would be more than glad to help me in that regard. His name was Terry, also a friend from junior middle school and he was a notorious playboy in our school. Terry was about 6’2 something tall, hunky and slightly fat, with a strong nasal voice and diluted hair, just like the famous England footballer player of the same name. And besides his look, he also had similar personalities as that English Terry, like there were rumors that he had “slept” with a friend’s girlfriend, though most of those rumors were faked, fabricated and spread by Terry himself. Terry and I went to the same college, but in different professions… mine was physics while his was architecture. And just like most architects, Terry also had a remarkable talent for painting, like he could draw a cartoon sketch within five seconds. And Terry would be my best friend through college years, even though he wasn’t someone that I would always hang out with. I never hanged out with anyone, to be exact. I would make some new “friends” in the college but there would be no friendship like what we had during our middle school years, the genuine and pure friendship among Chuck, me, Terry, and all of us “gangstas”.
Chapter Eighteen
Everybody looked excited in their first day of college life, all my new classmates, from all over the country. They kept talking all the time and I didn’t know if they were just too excited or they were born talkative. A senior student was assigned to our class as a guide, to introduce this college and the life here to us, a new era of life that everyone seemed so excited about, except me.
I just half-mindedly followed my classmates, listening to the “guide” or not listening I wasn’t even sure. All I was thinking about was Leigh, how her life was 500 miles from home, who would take care of her if she fell sick…
There was an informal party that night, a party hosted by our class where everyone would get a chance to make a self-introduction. There was no meeting hall or anything though, just sitting on the ground in the huge square before a canteen. There were twenty or twenty-five students in our class, and the vast majority of us were male students which was quite normal for our profession, which seemed like a bad situation for both sexes. Guys would have to seek girls outside our class and maybe even outside our school to lose their virginities to, while it would be very dangerous for the girls to spend four years among a bundle of sexually hungry guys. It seemed everyone would dislike such a situation, but I didn’t care, maybe I even appreciated it because it would be easier for me to stay focused, not on my schoolwork but my ever-lasting obsession with Leigh. However, it turned out that I could never avoid what was inevitable…
We sat in a circle, and although I tried my best not to pay any attention to the girls sitting right opposite my side, my eyes failed me and betrayed me. I checked all the six or seven girls quickly and found no face that stood out, just average to mediocre looking ones, none of them was nearly as beautiful as Leigh, to be quite honest. But there was still one girl who grabbed my eyes, special from the rest. Her didn’t look too impressive, but not too bad either, and there was still plenty of childishness that could be seen on her face. And I would later know that she was indeed the youngest in our class, about two years younger than the class’s average age. And she mind was probably just as childish as she looked, which was why she would always hold such a dream of having a relationship with… me, until it all went broke and dead in the summer of our graduation from college, in the summer when I didn’t say anything to her at all, not even a goodbye.
Her name was Chelsea, and it almost made me laugh when I first heard her name. Was it irony, or coincidence, that my best friend of college years was named Terry while my biggest admirer in college was named Chelsea? Sometimes even I felt lucky that I hadn’t developed a relationship with Chelsea, otherwise Chelsea would have probably become another victim of Terry’s philandering, knowing that he had such a fetish for sleeping with his friend’s girlfriends. Terry played PF most times when he was playing basketball in high school, given his size and strength, and I usually saw him wearing either a Dirk #41 jersey or a Duncan #21, and it kind of puzzled me whether he was a Mavs fan or a Spurs fan. Spurs fan more likely, I thought, since “sleeping with friends’ girlfriends or even wives” was a widely shared habit among the Spurs, which had even become a norm in their locker room maybe.
But it didn’t mean I would have worried about losing Chelsea as my girlfriend, even if I had made her my girlfriend, because I would have total faith in her. Terry could take her clothes off but could never take her heart away. Chelsea was so innocent and so loyal a girl, which could be seen in her clear eyes. She was only 17yr old, and she looked even younger than that, with her tiny nose and mouth, small and delicate like they had never grown since her sixth birthday, and her supple full cheeks that hugged her lovely face. It was probable that I would’ve fallen in love for her at first sight if I had never known Leigh, had never developed the crush on her, but it found it extremely hard with Leigh already in place.
Yet I managed to smile to Chelsea somehow which was caught by her eyes. Maybe she thought I was interested in her, maybe I indeed liked her at a very basic and very primitive level of my awareness, but I just couldn’t go there where Chelsea was waiting for me to lead my shoulder to her to cry on, because Leigh was always standing there in my way. I could’ve pretended to like Chelsea, flattering her with lies like most guys did with their girlfriends, and I could’ve even played “hit and run” on her… But Rogue was an honest guy, and I thought it would be unfair to her if her boyfriend had another woman in his mind all the time. Chelsea was a good girl and she certainly deserved a real love, a man’s heart that only belonged to herself, which I could never give her. And the emotional attachment between Chelsea and me would only turn out to be a mistake, a horrible yet romantic mistake.
Chapter Nineteen
“Hi Rogue…” I heard a girl calling my name from behind, a tiny finger nudging my shoulder gently. It was Chelsea, her voice which sounded just like Scarlett’s minus huskiness. She was sitting right behind me, before the class began. “Have you brought your headphone?” She asked.
The headphone was right inside my bag. I always brought it with me so when there weren’t any classes I’d go to a public computer room to listen to some music or watch some movies, stuffs like that. ‘But why’s she asking me if I’ve brought it, not someone else?’ She wanted to borrow it, I thought, and I wouldn’t have no problem lending it to any classmate, but Chelsea… I didn’t want any association with her, not even the tiniest simplest one like a headphone shared. Maybe she had seen it in my schoolbag, or maybe she just wanted to talk to me, to have more intersection of my life and hers besides being in the same class.
“Sorry, I… I haven’t brought it today.” I lied. I couldn’t figure out at the moment if she knew I was lying or if she didn’t know, and it didn’t made any difference to me either way. I lied to her, being dishonest to the girl who had such a genuine affection for me. She probably knew I was lying because she wouldn’t ever approach to talk to me for maybe two years, until junior year or something, but she was attracted to me all the time throughout our college years, wasting four of her best adolescent years on a piece of that I was.
Or maybe I was just intentionally snubbing Chelsea, as a revenge for myself, for what Leigh had done on me… Leigh hadn’t actually done anything though, just leaving me out in cold, and I was treating Chelsea pretty much the same way. I suffered considerable grief because of Leigh and now I was inflicting the same grief, even with a vengeance, on another girl who was totally innocent. Did I just hate females… hate the ones who loved me? What a misogynist asshole had I become because of Leigh?
Yet I still couldn’t help but keep thinking of her, thinking of Leigh. I was eager to know what was going on in her life, if she felt happy or not in that southern city 500 miles away from her hometown, as well as anything about her. The thing that I most often did when I was in the public computer room was searching Leigh on Google. I didn’t do it at home because I didn’t want my parents to know my morbid obsession with Leigh. Fortunately there were such things like social networking websites in our time, so that there was some hope that I could find her page on one website or another, like Facebook or something. But unfortunately, Leigh was such a common name, like when you googled it you would get more than one hundred thousand results. I had persistence and patience, checking the results one by one. Sometimes I would add some more details about my Leigh, like the name of our high school, name of our city, our neighborhood etc… and my efforts finally paid off one day, the day when all my dreams about Leigh went dead.
Chapter Twenty
It was a cold afternoon, late November in my rookie year. There was no class in the afternoon but one important class at night. The whether was cold and I felt rather tired that day so I decided to spend the afternoon at school after the morning classes were done, rather than go back home then return to school for the night class.
I couldn’t really figure out what to do for this whole after noon, so I just went to a public computer room on the campus as I usually did. There weren’t any interesting news on the internet, just trivial reports and groundless rumors about random NBA players. And yes, the sports boards were what I visited most frequently, because I was such a big sport fan, a big NBA fan, a die-hard Mavs fan to be exact.
There were many transfer rumors going around there, rumors like Jason Kidd coming back to Dallas, and Pau Gasol being traded to LA for trashes etc… I wasn’t interested in those rumors though, not even those about the Mavs. I knew most of them were not credible, and I didn’t really care since there didn’t appear to be any feasible trade that could escalate us to the range of le contention. But the Mavs logo still grabbed my attention, and reminded me of someone… a very significant person in my life.
It was Leigh, of course. Mavs logo was mainly comprised of three colors – blue, white and black, which also seemed to be Leigh’s favorite colors supposedly… her white shirt, the black skirt, and the navy-blue NB running shoes that I could never forget ever. I tried to not think about her but my fingers still found their way to the keyboard where they deftly typed the name “Leigh” in Google’s search engine… So I once again began searching that Leigh, searching my Leigh among the numerous results as I usually did, and like always, I failed to find her page on facebook or any social networking website. But there was a difference this time… There was one item that caught my eyes, and I was pretty sure that was Leigh, that was my Leigh, the same high school name and the exact right year of college entrance. But it wasn’t her page, but someone else’s… it was the page of a guy who was also a graduate from our high school.
At first I thought the Leigh mentioned on his page was probably another Leigh, there might be another Leigh who graduated from our high school that same year since Leigh was such a common name, or I just arbitrarily wished so… But as I read more of his page, I realized I was wrong, childishly wrong. The Leigh he mentioned went to the same college, same southern city that Leigh went to, and he even mentioned the number of our class which was exactly correct… I wanted to stop reading by that moment before some following words appeared in my eyes and embarrassed me to death. I felt humiliated and afraid of reading anymore, but I still continued anyway.
That dude was an elite student in our school, our same grade, and I had even heard of his name when I was a student in high school, where I had known or heard of few students outside my classmates and those my best friends from junior middle school. His name was Conceição, and I didn’t even know if that was his first name or last, nor did he reveal it on his page which just appeared “Conceição’s page”. Conceição was much better than me at schoolwork, which was well reflected and justified by the name of school he went to… It made me feel dwarfed, and it was no wonder that… um… no wonder Leigh had chosen him as her… well, her boyfriend.
Chapter Twenty-One
The relationship of Conceição and Leigh didn’t begin while they were in high school though. There was a post on Conceição’s page, written in July that year, in which he asked for Leigh’s phone number… Obviously he didn’t even know her phone number at the time, let along having a relationship with her. But apparently he got her phone number somehow, or he just proposed an appointment to Leigh on the internet which Leigh somehow got to see. That was their first date, I thought, at a shopping mall near our high school…
I felt dejected at the moment and I would’ve probably killed myself right there if I had a gun in my hand, but I didn’t have any gun, or even any sharp knife anywhere I could see. My heart was beating furiously and hard, as sweat quickly wetted my palms. I hated that dude, or maybe just envied him, but not as much as I hated myself… ‘If I had acted more aggressive, and more like a man, I would’ve probably already wrapped up Leigh as my girlfriend before anyone else could have a hand in…’ I thought, and I regretted being such a classless wimp during the last several months of high school time, or during the whole 3 years of high school.
But it was also apparent that he loved Leigh and I had no doubt that he would treat Leigh right, like a goddess maybe, if they got married someday… Dude sounded hysterical and even a bit insane in the post where he was asking for Leigh’s phone number. He must have known her when they were in high school, and seen her from somewhere far away, and he probably also had a long time crush on Leigh just like I did. I could understand his desperation, vicariously, even empathetically, though the results of our crushes turned out to be entirely different…
Leigh became his girlfriend, and according to Conceição’s words in his most recent posts, they exchanged texts via their cell phones all day everyday… Conceição went to a college that was absolutely the best in our country. The college he went to was located in another city but was rather close to our hometown, less than an hour’s drive or something, north to our hometown. But Leigh was more than 500 miles away from home. She was even farther away from her boyfriend than she was from me, which was the only fact that I could use to somewhat console myself, ironically and pathetically.
So the young lovers could only afford few months in a year to spend together, during summer vacation or something, while the vast majority of time their relationship could only be maintained by internet and phone lines. That was miserable, I thought, though not as miserable as I felt for the moment.
Conceição was one year younger than Leigh, so he referred to Leigh as an “elder sister”, which made me want to vomit… Yet I didn’t vomit, I beat the whole thing back down my throat. I wished them the best though, because I didn’t have any reason to hate them more than I should hate myself.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Conceição referred to Leigh as a “sister” but which guy would keep exchanging text messages with his sister all the time? It was just an endearment appellation between them, I thought, just like that often used by the in-love male and female protagonists in Louis Cha’s novels. It was just as obvious a lie as a guy inviting a woman to his bedroom and spending a night with her and claiming next morning that nothing had happened.
I felt grievous, and disgusted, and the air seemed even turbid inside the computer room with all windows closed. So I finally decided to leave for some fresh air. I spent nearly the whole afternoon here and I didn’t want to breathe any more such stale air in this place, or I just couldn’t bear to learn any more about the updates of Leigh on Conceição’s page.
It was dim and dark outside, already past 5pm already. I headed straightly to the canteen before the last afternoon class was over so I wouldn’t need to waste too much time waiting for my order. I ordered the most expensive dishes in the canteen, a treachery to my frugal lifestyle, though they were basically tasteless on my tongue.
I finished my dinner quickly and walked out of the canteen, but still felt unsatisfied so I went all the way into another canteen located right on the opposite side of the road… I ate twice as much tonight as I usually ate, and I felt bulk in my stomach, even painful, but not as painful as my heart felt. Indeed, the discomfort of stomach even helped alleviate the pain in my heart, by distracting me from thinking about what I just saw on the computer’s screen earlier in the afternoon.
I went to the classroom which was still half-empty when I arrived. I sat in a seat in the rearmost row, putting out a book that I could pretend to be reading… I could hardly see the slideshow, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t concentrate on the class anyway, when my head was haunted by the memories of Leigh all the time. My hands felt cold like the iron legs of the desk, while my heart might be even colder. I was just sitting there motionlessly as if I were dead… maybe I was dead, in some way.
Leigh was the first girl that I had really love, and probably the last one as well. I was aware that my hope of getting Leigh back in my life was already dead, thoroughly devastated, I knew it just as well I knew everything. Maybe it was time for me to move on, to get my head out of my butt and start paying attention to the girls who loved me and who had been caring about me, like Chelsea… but I just couldn’t. It was just too hard for me to forget about Leigh, despite how hard I tried…
As soon as I arrived home that night, I opened up my closet and put out all those pencil drawings of Leigh, my own works of art that I used to treat as my most valuable possessions, and tore them all up then flushed them down the toilet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I couldn’t fall asleep that night, and the many nights to come, just lying in bed with my eyes closed but being awake all the way until morning the next day. I just couldn’t help but think about Leigh, all the time… how was her life in that southern city, and how far her relationship with Conceição had evolved. Had they kissed, and even ed? Though I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about her any more, nor did it matter to me any more.
Classroom became the sleeping place for me the next several months, with my forearms being the pillow, not too comfortable but at least I could fall asleep on them. I used to be passionate about Physics, about the art of nature, but now I found it all boring and tiring. The math was too hard and too complex for me when I had been so severely deprived of sleep, and more importantly, I no longer had any interest in it, or anything…
I was convinced that Leigh also chose physics as her major for undergraduate years, and I was right, I confirmed it by myself when I found her page through Conceição’s on that same social networking website. She was also studying physics. I ought to have been delighted with this news, even ecstatic about it, because we were studying the same subject, learning the same courses… but I felt no delight or excitement. Leigh belonged to someone else, now Conceição and probably later to some other guy waiting in the queue, but I would never have any chance again… I had been eliminated.
I longed to be just a friend of hers, with whom she could discuss questions concerning her major, no, our common major, but even that was too far away for me to reach. She was aware of my crush on her during the last several months in high school and, she either didn’t have no interest in me at all or, she once had some interest but then hated me for being such a wimp. Yes, I was a wimp who didn’t even dare to talk to the girl I loved so much, let alone presenting my love to her in straight forward in a bold manner.
Maybe I was just didn’t dare to approach her for the fear of the possibility that she might think of me as a or something, or that she was already in relationship with someone at the time. I could think of a million excuses for me being such a wimp during that most important period of my life, which pretty much shaped my future, but I still regretted it. Failure would’ve been painful, but still not as bad as not trying at all.
But why was I still thinking about Leigh all the time? Maybe there was still a strand of hope in the deepest part of my heart, that Leigh might just be a friend of Conceição, a brother-sister friendship just like Conceição described it… I knew I might just be deluding myself, again, but I was genuinely hoping that I wasn’t. I would never believe it, or never want to believe the cruel fact that my dream girl had become someone else’s girlfriend until I actually saw it… And I did see it, and I didn’t wait for too long before that happened.
It was the summer vacation after our rookie year. I hadn’t seen Leigh for roughly a year, yet it felt long to me as my entire lifetime. I saw her and Conceição riding bike together near our high school, our alma mater. I felt as if my heart was ripped into a thousand pieces when I saw them… They stopped at a corner, talking about something that I barely heard. They were talking about a shop or maybe something else opposite our school’s gate. I knew there was one shop selling flight tickets, so maybe they were going there to buy tickets for Leigh… I had no idea if they had seen me. Perhaps Leigh had seen me, but pretended not, while Conceição didn’t seem to know me at all.
Leigh’s hair was longer than last time I saw her, almost a year ago. Her hair was almost as long as her spine now, draping down her head all the way to her waist. And she looked more than one year older, her face two or three degrees darker. Did she feel happy? Probably not, but it was not my business to care about that… it never was.
Chapter Twenty-Four
So, my memory of Leigh stopped by that summer. I hadn’t ever visited her page or Conceição’s again, not even once. I longed to start a new life, but it was impossible, because the damage was already done. I once vowed that Leigh would be the only woman in this world that I would ever get married to, and I stuck to that vow even though I had completely cut ties with Leigh mentally.
My mom urged me to not date any girl who had been badly hurt, yet she didn’t it was me who was mentally devastated by a woman, by Leigh. It was like a nightmare that would always prevent you from really loving someone else, a nightmare that you could never wake up from, and a mental damage that there was no cure to.
I was not sure if it was just fear or remorse or something else, but I just found it impossible for me to accept the love from any girl, especially such an innocent girl that Chelsea was. Chelsea loved me, however, unfortunate to herself, and also to me. I just couldn’t accept her love, because it would be unfair for her to have a boyfriend who still lived in the nightmare inflicted by another girl, and the more she loved me the more remorse and guilt I bore.
Chelsea was a shy girl, even a bit introvert which was similar to me. But she was rather bold when it came to love, or she was just too innocent to even know how to hide her feelings, her affection… for me. I knew she loved me and I was sure of it, and so was everyone in our class. She made it so obvious that both of us would feel embarrassed if we somehow sat too close in the classroom even when “too close” was still no less than one or two seats apart, yet I couldn’t criticized her for anything… she loved me and I couldn’t think of no reason why she should hide it, because it was so natural, and so rightful.
So I would be a Model (an elite defensive strategist in the Nazi army during World War II) for the remainder of college time. The offensive movements of Chelsea were strong enough, and there were several times when I almost lost my trench and surrendered, yet my heart of iron would prevail over my natural appe e each and every time. I would remain a free man past our graduation from college, and I had never seen Chelsea again ever since.
I still remembered her every now and then. I felt sorry for her, guilty and remorseful. I had no idea how I managed to be such an insouciant asshole through all four years in college. Even if my heart was made of iron, it would’ve been already melted down by the relentless wave of heat from Chelsea. Yet I remained cold and hardhearted, all the time, no matter how hard Chelsea tried, snubbing her time and time again. I could even imagine her crying in the bed at night, just like I always wanted to do during that summer of graduation from high school but always failed to. I knew exactly how it felt being snubbed by the one you loved…
I had no doubt that she loved me, but… did I love her, at all? Even I didn’t have an answer to that question. Maybe I loved her, or maybe not. I thought I became immune to all females after being hurt so bad by Leigh, but it seemed Chelsea could always hit the softest spot of my heart. She made me hard when I was sleeping in my bed at night, or not sleeping, just lying there pondering every exciting proposal that could possibly come true this year or next, but none of them came true. I imagined how my life would be with Chelsea being that significant other, and I craved it, but I just couldn’t make one single step towards that end. There were many chances, one after another, yet I fled away every time, like the same sorry wimp that I had always been.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I remember at the start of our sop re year, our class appointed a hang out or something like that which every classmate was supposed to attend, like we would have lunch together then spend the whole afternoon having fun. There were many possible activities waiting on the way, like dancing and singing, at places that I had never been. We had classes in the morning but none after so the time would be all ours the rest of the day, and probably night as well.
I still remembered the look of Chelsea that day, in the morning when she was arriving at the classroom. She wore a white shirt, her hair neat and glossy more than ever. Her eyes found me when her legs were still outside the door. We exchanged a glance then both of us looked away quickly, but the smile on her lovely face didn’t go away. I couldn’t help but turn my eyes back to her side, immediately. Her cheeks were a little flushed, and the little pinkish on her face only doubled her magnificence if not tripled.
My heart began to pound fast, and I felt hard down there so instantly I had to sneak my bottom towards the back of the chair as much as I could, and lean my torso slightly forward to form an angle with my thighs in order to avoid being embarrassed by the hard convex that would otherwise obtrude.
I didn’t even dare do look further down, as if the hard tool would grow longer and pierce the cloth then stick out, but I did look down anyway, observing the other half of my beautiful girl below her waist. Her butt wasn’t too big but still filled the tight jeans skirt, which only covered half the length of her thighs. The white fleshy cylinders were so smooth and so touchable, and so tight against each other. I couldn’t help imagining how she felt when inner sides of her thighs rubbed against each other as she walked, and how I would feel with her legs around mine, hugging and rubbing against my bare legs…
It was only the second time I saw her wearing skirt, since the very first day of college, that night when all of our class sat in a circle, like we were camping except that there was no fire in the center. She sat right opposite me that night, her arms and hands resting on her thighs which were wrapped inside her white knee-long skirt. The moonlight was so dim it was hard for me to see her face clearly, yet we still looked at each other tacitly, though there was nothing to be seen but our blurred body figures.
Then it came her turn to stand up and introduce herself, and that was when I first knew her name – Chelsea, so chaste and holy a name it was, a name that fit her so well… It was still dim and dark, but I felt as if there was spotlight on her as I could see her face clearly somehow, for the first time. She looked much younger than the rest of us, not impressively beautiful but still lovely enough, in a childish way, like a pubescent Scarlett Johansson who hadn’t grown into her features yet.
And as she finished her self-introduction and sat back down, I was surprised to see more than I expected, thrilled and transfixed… there was still quite an angle between her legs when her ass hit the ground. She quickly wrapped her skirt back around her thighs, but not before I caught a glimpse of the inside… a white narrow length of cloth running across the area, covering up the valley between her legs. I felt hard in that same area of mine, and even slightly wet, and I was grateful that there were still quite some students waiting to make self-introductions before me, so I would have enough time to calm myself down. I couldn’t bear to look at her anymore, but I could feel that she was staring at me, and she probably knew what I had just seen, what I should have not seen.
I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes, expecting some reasonable angriness on her face… but no, there wasn’t no angriness, but shyness and, the warm smile that I would never forget.
No problem bro, its a good read. Your story can only get better with more practice.Thanks, bro
Thanks bro
Chapter Twenty-Six
It was the same smile this morning in the classroom, on the same beautiful face that was a bit flushed. The only difference was that the classroom was bright enough, and her skirt was only half the length of the white one she wore on our first meeting, so I could see more of her, and I could see more clearly.
She was moving gingerly wearing the short skirt as if she was on her period, and I wished I had superman’s eyes at the moment so I would be able to check if she really was or not. Maybe it was just because she wasn’t quite used to wearing skirts, especially skirts short like this, knowing it was only the second time I saw her wearing a skirt… which would turned out to be the last time as well.
I tried my best to steady myself but the muscles in my legs were still trembling, and I felt the voltage between my legs was increasing fast. I couldn’t focus on the class surely, yet I couldn’t turn it another sleeping time either, because I would otherwise dream of making love and that would make me come…
‘You’re a good kid, a good student, Rogue, stop thinking about that…’ I said to myself, trying to use my pride of high school to beat down the primitive desire coming up from the animal side, but it didn’t work. I used to be a good student and a good kid, but that time was long gone, and it was the first time I felt being grown, even though I didn’t want to grow up, I never wanted it.
But in the end it was still the memory from high school that finally cooled me down, and for sure it was the memory about, Leigh… ‘Don’t make a fool of yourself again, Rogue, ’s just fooling you around, wake up man.’ I tried to pretend as if it was not Chelsea, but Leigh who just walked past my eyesight, trying to convince myself that Chelsea was just yet another scarlet woman like Leigh… but I knew Chelsea wasn’t. She was so innocent, and her soul must be just as pure and clear as her look.
Finally I turned the blade to myself, and it worked… ‘You’re such an asshole, Rogue. You don’t deserve no love from any woman.’ I said to myself. My heartbeat slowed down, and the hardness vanished. I then took a deep breath and the passion was completely gone.
I went back home as soon as the class was over. I turned off my cell phone and didn’t turn it on until the next day… I was such an escapist, and that kind of became a norm of my life for the next three years or something. Maybe I should’ve told her straight that I didn’t love her, not at all, or just that I couldn’t accept her love or whatsoever. Yet I was a wimp, I didn’t even dare to have a talk with her. I feared that she would burst into tears right in front of me, which would break my heart and probably change my mind. I feared that I would put myself into such a situation where I couldn’t help leading my shoulder to Chelsea for her to cry on… But nothing happened, no matter if I feared it, or internally craved it. I refused to give even a slim chance to Chelsea, or to myself to change our lives.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The summer of graduation was always a season of sadness, a lot of breakups and ends of romantic stories. Most our classmates had signed job contracts before graduation, ranging from good jobs to average ones, and they all seemed to be content with they lives anyway, or they just pretended to be glad when they were to start a new era of life, just like they were four years ago.
I hadn’t found a job, or even tried to, and I didn’t care. I cared about Chelsea though, and that was the only thing I cared about around that time, if anything. I wanted to know how her life was… had she found a job, or ever considered giving up on me, or had she already given up on me? I had no answer to those questions, and for sure, I didn’t have the courage to ask her for answers.
Many pairs of college sweethearts had to break up, like Joan and her boyfriend. Joan was Chelsea’s best friend through college years, both smart and good-looking, and both devoted to love. But the difference between them was obvious… Joan was very serene compared to Chelsea and she had a much better ability in handling her mood, and her relationship. Joan was the pants wearer in her relationship with that dude, through all three something years as the relationship lasted. Although she also looked rather sad, and also wept on the day when her boyfriend was about to go back to his hometown where he had found a job, she could handle it pretty well, like she could just wipe her tears away and she would be a happy girl the right next second.
But my Chelsea was different… sorry I shouldn’t have called her “my Chelsea”. She had never been mine, not even close. I had imagined countless times how it hypothetically felt, to both of us, when we were rolling around in our bed, our mouths sealed and legs twisted together. But it never came true, and never would, and I never even tried to work towards that end. Instead, I tried my best to avoid it in such a wimpy manner, time and time again.
Joan was about to leave her boyfriend and both of them felt sad, but at least they had a good time together, which would be such a sweet memory for them… but there was nearly zero memory for me and Chelsea. Joan and her boyfriend had kissed right before my eyes, their foreheads touching. They gazed at each other affectionately with eyes that were full of love, which made me feel envious, and Chelsea must felt the same too. If that dude someday told me that he had slept with Joan, his college sweetheart, I wouldn’t have no doubt and wouldn’t feel no surprise, but I hadn’t given Chelsea even a hug, I hadn’t even touched her hand…
Was I too classy, or too much of a pussy?
I hated pussy, even feared it, which I later figured out as a possible reason for all my wimpy behaviors in the past. I once thought that Chelsea might be the right replacement of Leigh in my mind, a possible cure to all the damages I had suffered because of Leigh, but it only ended up making things worse. I couldn’t blame Chelsea because it was entirely my fault, and Chelsea was just a victim of my cowardice, for whom I could only feel sorry and guilty.
Part Four - Goddess
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I lived an idle life for two entire years, doing nothing but playing computer games after computer games, posting on a message board named “spurstalk” 24/7 quarrelling with random posters over meaningless trivia. I just couldn’t figure out what to do during that time, but that was indeed the happiest period of time in my life since my first day in primary school. It reminded me of my childhood, nothing to do and nothing to care about… It might sound a bit lame, even pathetic, but what else was I supposed to do?
I used to have many dreams as a child… I dreamed of becoming a great person, and the greatest historical figure in my young mind was Isaac Newton. I wanted to be someone like him and that was probably the biggest reason why I loved Physics so much, I thought, and I did pretty well in that area through high school time. But my head was pretty ed up in that summer by the morbid obsession with Leigh, or I was just not that smart in the first place… anyway, the dream of being an eminent physicist turned out to be nothing but a dream, but I ended up having one thing in common with Newton…
I usually thought about the goal of life… ‘What are we living for and, what shall we live for?’ I often asked myself that question, a question that had never been convincingly answered. We should live for wealth, health, or something else? What did other people think I felt when I attended a cousin’s wedding, or how was I supposed to feel when my best childhood friends all had got their babies while I was still living on parents’ money? Should I also man up and go out there and get everything that I was supposed to have, as my parents and friends always urged me to?
But there was no point for me in living a life that way. I had no clear idea what I really wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want, in which sense I was just like “Cristina” in Vicky Cristina Barcelona, a movie written and directed by Woody Allen, and of course, Cristina was portrayed by Scarlett Johansson.
I hadn’t really watched any movie of hers in the past, never even heard of her name before, and it was as late as November 2012 when I came to know about her, watching a film she made- The Avengers, which was the first film of hers that I had watched. I was impressed by her phenomenal beauty even though that Black Widow character was far from being the prettiest character she had portrayed. I was really impressed by her beauty, but not as much as I was intrigued by her extraordinary charisma after learning more about her on wikipedia, from her childhood experiences to the hardships she had lived through.
I went on to watch a few more films of hers, and finally it was Lost in Translation that moved me and touched me, and made me fall in love for her incorrigibly. I watched that film at night, which turned out to be a poor choice because I would have a hard time falling asleep that night. Insomnia used to be an issue that haunted me for two to three years after graduation from high school, but sleeping had been fine enough for me for more than a year, while I was pretty much living the lifestyle of a baby and often sleeping like one. But I relapsed that night, when I didn’t sleep at all, just lying there in my bed thinking about Scarlett, about her elegance and gorgeousness, and everything.
It even injected into my head such a feeling that I had wasted the past ten years of my life. What if I had watched Lost in Translation in 03, when the film was initially released, rather than ten years later? I would’ve lived a much happier life the ten years prior, and I would probably have never became obsessed with Leigh or anyone, wouldn’t have even given a about her. Yes, Leigh looked pretty good, better than 90% women out there to say the least, but she was not even remotely comparable to my goddess Scarlett, to be honest, at least one light year below my goddess’s level.
Even my goddess wasn’t perfect though, which was the truth I knew and I could be honest to it. She had ty tattoos, and she was an avid smoker, and she had more artificial holes than natural ones on her body… but those things only added charm to her rather than deducted any. I knew they were bad habits and I would never touch any myself, but I could hardly find them repulsive when it was my goddess who had them. Like, my goddess was too brilliant to be smudged by anything.
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