The Gamer's Quarter

[seryogin]

This story takes place in a time period that I don’t much like to recall. For the past six years I’ve kept the records of it locked away in the safes of my psyche’s governments, under constant supervision by armed guards who would scurry the chronicler that lives inside my head to other, more interesting, periods in my life whenever he would come too close to them. Not because the events contained in them cause me pain, I’ve changed too much and have had too much happen to me since then, but because they stir a repulsive sense of disapproval within me when they are brought to the forefront of my mind.

I was in tenth grade. I believe I was fourteen or fifteen.

At the time, I was a degenerate adolescent, whose beliefs and ideals had yet to form into the sparkling young man that you are reading at this moment. I knew nothing, absolutely nothing about anything. I’m dead serious. My entire knowledge of the world was an amalgam of videogames, cartoons, patriotic war films and some vague notions of Christianity that I picked up from attending church services now and then. These media created a phantasmagoria of heroic soldiers laying down there lives for our glorious motherland, scenes of sentimental monologues and innocent kisses in a hazy fantasy setting, unimaginably violent smaurai sword fights, a winged Christ locked in an endless struggle against the Beast: all under the aegis of a blind, thickheaded know-nothingness masquerading as a sensibility, with a Wu-Tang Clan/ Nobuo Uematsu soundtrack playing in the background. Before adolescence this stupidity was charming and produced some wonderful things, I’ve written about them too many times in the Gamer’s Quarter and will no doubt write about them again, so I don’t want to bring them up again here.

The only thing that I understood and felt right down to the marrow of my bones was that I was waiting for something to happen. Something massive and world-changing that would send me on the epic quests that I dreamed off in between bouts of videogame playing and masturbation. I dreamed of finding a band of adventures that I would join me. I wasn’t finding them in real life. I was shy and had an aura of repugnance around me. If I’d met my fourteen-year old self today I’d avoid him, because he’d be that annoying dickhead that posts garbled, all-caps misspelled un-thoughts on anime message boards.

I had very few friends. The only person that wasn’t related to me that I saw fairly often was Vlad. I don’t want to call him my friend, even if we did spend many years together, because I saw him out of necessity, for lack of anyone else; I hated him for the most part, because his personal habits and manners were repulsive. He also struck me as immoral. He was the type of person that grovels to the cruel popular pack, adopts their loathsome habits and traits, and picks on weaker kids and turns nerds’ lives into hell, all in an effort to make himself look stronger, a braggart and a liar of the cheapest, most vile sort. A person that, were he at the My Lai massacre, would join in the killing with a nervous grin, casting quick glances at his CO every time he blew a hole into the head of another emaciated peasant, searching for approval, and at the end of it all he’d go on about how he hated fags, gook-lovers and pussies in an all too loud voice while chugging a beer and belching. He went to another school and talked big about his popularity and standing there (how surprised I was to hear from another one of his friends that most of his supposed “friends” made fun of him behind his back and were constantly surprised by his inability to note that they didn’t like him).

Now, don’t think I was somehow the noble one here. I was and am a thorough coward, perhaps less so these days. I would get my teeth knocked out by boys smaller than me and literally not have the strength to fight back; I would get utterly humiliated and not say a word. Once that happened a few times, I lost any desire to brag about myself. I had a deep, soul-crushing fear of people, especially older boys and girls (I would, oddly enough, lose this completely in six months, once I discovered that the people at my school, once I stopped hating all of them from afar, really were great, noble souls that treated me with kindness and warmth after I got over my self-conscious desire to appear as a tough-as-hell badass loner and acted like myself).

One day Vlad wanted to introduce me to his girlfriend. I was somewhat shocked by this sudden development. Now, he had told me many times of his many girlfriends, though I never believed him. I was puzzled and shocked; a bit jealous as well. I had yet to even kiss a girl. I met him at his school. The girl, Mary, seemed rather plain to me at first sight, perhaps even a bit homely. Perhaps she had a passable figure and cute face. She was pretty dumb, as well ignorant of everything good in the world.

We went around the city that day, she and he making out the whole time and groping one another, as young people are prone to do. Throughout this whole trip, something gnawed at me. I didn’t understand what until I went home.

My blood began ran cold and it seemed as if it was slowly transforming into needless. Those needles were pumped through my heart. I began to cry horribly and for a very long time. I was jealous, plain jealous. That jealousy became developed into a searing hatred of everything around me. For some reason, this girl, who had been nothing in my eyes, had become the most beautiful thing in the world. I compared all other girls to her, I idealized their relationship. I began to idolize Vlad as well, I figured that if a girl as great as her could spend time with him without being repulsed then I was wrong. Everyday I would wake up and be utterly despondent, I would have a blank stare at school and I would draw attention to myself by acting depressed, hoping that people would notice and cheer me up. I didn’t hate Vlad anymore and I didn’t even hate myself. All I had in those days was my pain, which would increase every time Vlad would reveal a new detail of their mounting sexual trysts. Every time I’d see them kiss I’d amplify the fantasy that drove me on: a noble death in Chechnya, going to that filthy war and dying like a hero. What a loathsome, degenerate twerp I was.

Once he dared her to kiss me and she did. It was the first time I had ever kissed a girl, and well I’m sure we all know what that feels like. I was very happy for a few days. Yet, now I’m bitter that these people were involved in so momentous an event.

And god, how I’d like to have those six months of desperation returned to me. How I’d love to punch the fucking cobwebs of my face and reveal that I was worshipping a pair of banal schoolkids, going through their daytime drama romance with as much grace as a pack of cockroaches. I was too fucking dumb to understand that this wasn’t Romeo and Juliet, that these were tasteless abominations incapable of feeling an emotion beyond those inspired by shitty pop songs. While I spent my days in my room, masturbating, pitying myself, crying while listening to anime soundtracks, loathing everything around me, and pining for her, and all this happened while there were plenty of girls that liked me in my school. And I would be too fucking stupid to notice… ehh, those two, their type pollutes the world; the type that I regard as less than vermin, the type of people that I try not to think about, for they make it more difficult to imagine a world of human decency. I despise them more than Adolf Hitler, because at least the Nazis had taste.

And this, folks, is what blind jealousy creates.

Also, if you think I’m being to hard on them then let me tell you that I saw Vlad a year ago by chance and he’s exactly the same fucking moron that he was in high school, and mighty successful in his professional and personal life, I might add.

Writing this has left a bad taste in my mouth. Nonetheless, I can’t avoid these things. They are a part of my life. Though I find it endlessly odd that that person, who seems more alien to me than my current friends, was once myself.

It’s actually amusing to me now.

Well, no, actually, it isn’t. It remains shameful and vile.
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[antitype]

[dhex]

[antitype]

[seryogin]

[dessgeega]

my last relationship ended abruptly and unexpectedly. maybe i'll go into detail tonight.
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[antitype]

Well, I already told my story elsewhere, but for posterity's sake...

[dhex]

notes from underground is pretty much perfect.

[antitype]

[TheRumblefish]

Four years ago, about four years roughly is when I met a girl, who would later on become my fiancé. I was ignorant, I had never had a girlfriend before, but she fell head over heals for me, I adjusted my lifestyle and also ended up falling for her, but this story isn't about a relationship that fell apart, it's just about self-destructing.

Four years ago, I was self-destructive. I still feel those tendencies every once and a while. It's sometimes a constant struggle and battle to get up and do what needs to be done. But those four years, through High School, they were messy. I played the role of the antagonist, miss-understood, shunned by all, trying to make heads or tails of the situation that was unfolding around me.

I wanted to grasp what a relationship was, my girlfriend tried to help me, she slowly made progress, she worked hard at it. She had her problems, I had mine, it was a beautiful co-existence, and still is. But at the three years I made a mistake, I lied to her, not about a girl, not about my life, but about my past and an event that transfixiated itself on changing every perspective I held dear to me. She hated when someone lied to her, I told white lies, like everyone does.

I won't go into details about what I lied about, it wasn't about her I didn't cheat I don't have the capability within me to hurt someone so much, but it was important and I really pushed her away. I wanted to tell her if we got married. So she thought it over, she hated me. She still resents that year. I didn't want to be the antagonist, but I pushed myself deeper into depression and I don't think I ever recovered from lying to someone that had did so much for me.

Nothing is broken except me; I am the defect in the relationship. I let her down, and even though she still feels the same about me, it will take a long time for her to really convey her feelings the same way towards me. I've never been an any relationship except this one. I can't imagine being with anyone else, the awkwardness, and the bitter reality of being socially inept. I suppose that was what drew both of us together.

This story has a semi-happy ending I suppose. I’ve never shared it with anyone, she's told her friends, but I don't have any other friends that would bother to listen really, College acts as a dampener between friendships as well sometimes. I learned that the hard way. Either way, the only relationship I have ever had, and still have is one that I have jeopardized and I hate myself for it. It doesn't matter that it's o.k. It doesn't matter that things worked out, I still fucking hate myself for it.

Coming from four years I have made progress, I learned with someone that was just as inexperienced as me. I didn't know what a relationship is, and I am convinced that I still don't have a clue. I suppose in general, what I am trying to say is that even when everything in a relationship is fine, it's so fragile and so easy to dismantle, and hurt each other it's just uncanny. I sometimes wish I was stronger, or a better person, but I know who I am and that I have a lot of things to work on.

In closing, things are very strange, relationships are the same way. I want to change myself for the better, for her. When viewed next to each other, she is perfection, and I am just so far away from it, it's not funny. It's this through that emerges sometimes when I wake up and think about how far I have come in four years, and then how much farther we have to go in a relationship.

I'm sorry if this offended anyone.

[Swimmy]

You shouldn't apologize if that offended anyone. Hell, it's your story.

I don't really have anything to add. I'm awkward and pretty shy, so here I am.

[seryogin]

Rumblefish, you're tale reminded me of a quote from Martin Eden:

"[her name] It was a talisman, a magic word to conjure with. Each time he murmured it, her face shimmered before him, suffusing the foul wall with a golden radiance. This radiance did not stop at the wall. It extended on into infinity, and through its golden depths his soul went questing after hers. The best that was in him was pouring out in a spending flood. The very thought of her ennobled and purified him, made him better, and made him want to be better."

And, well, I hope things get better.

[dhex]

an observation: the thing about baggage is that you don't have to carry it around. it's a choice.
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[seryogin]

[dessgeega]

she was relatively new to the area. she came over the weekend of my birthday (the end of this month), and i cooked for her. she was late and my pot got burnt. she bought me a new one.

she felt good in my arms. i was comfortable sharing a bed with her, and that's rare. and i was stunned by how quickly, how naturally we fell into kissing each other. before we had even sat down to eat.

things had been bad for me since i'd dropped out of school, and i took our relationship as a sign that things were starting to turn around. i think i put too much faith in her, in hindsight.

we continued over the weeks that followed. her cat had a difficult time relinquishing her spot on my partner's bed to me. we spent time together and ate and amused each other and played and hatched plans.

we were planning to go to california that summer and move in together, if things went well. we were looking at community colleges, and i had a friend outside san francisco who i hoped could help us find work.

a friend's choir tour was ending, and the last stop was a community church in new york. i was to meet my partner there, and she was to meet several of my friends (choir friend and a mutual friend who had dated choir friend) for the first time. then the three of us would catch the bus back to my place.

my partner didn't show up. she was sleeping when i called her. when my friend and i got back to my place there was an email from her. i didn't want to read it in front of my guest, but i made a pretty terrible host anyway that evening.

it was a break-up letter, of course (or a "dear johnna" letter, as one of my friends put it). she gave me a number of reasons over the next week, and i'm still not sure which - if any - was true.
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[ryan]

I met her my junior year of high school at the local mall. She was staying with her aunt after her she had problems with her mother and step-father after they had moved to Oklahoma to be closer to her step-father's sick brother. She wasn't here long before her aunt moved to Texas and she up to Oklahoma.

We kept in touch over the phone and through emails. She had a boyfriend at the time, but we weren't overly serious at first. Soon it happened that things clicked, and she broke up with him and my family and I went up for a visit.

A great aside: My parents had seen some Tom Hanks movie about relationships over the internet and found it quirky that that's what we were up to. They wanted a mini vacation so they paid for it all. I would like to say that I never told them we had already hung out before was because they never asked, but it was because I wanted a free trip. Aye, sometimes I'm a bad son. Moving along ...

The visit went great, and I got along with her family really well. I will try to be as nice about the family as I can, but, honestly, they were trash. Her younger sister wasn't, however, she was an extremely intelligent girl who loved science and animals and might have been something had she had better surroundings. Her older brother was really into history, games, star trek, etc. He was a little strange when we first met, but he turned out to be a really cool guy ... one second. Her step-sister was just weird. Aside from being a Wiccan, she talked as if she had a ball of snot always stuck in her throat, and she really liked unicorns. She would also do really random things that made no sense. None of this on their own would make her strange, but the combination of it all was just. She was kinda annoying, too. Eventually her brother and her step-sister married. Eh ... they were happy last I saw them, so best wishes to them.

Her step-father beat them when they were younger, was a genuine pervert, and chain smoked like crazy. He smoked about 20 cigars a day. He had a fake eye.

Her mother was a rotund woman who was really nice, highly stressed, and into odd things as well (star trek and whatnot - not to say star trek is odd, because I certainly dig the trek, but you know). I stuck up for her quite a bit. I really should't have. She stole money from us and at one point told her co-workers (my girlfriend worked at the same place) that I beat her. It's hard to beat her when I'm not around.

My parents loved my girlfriend and she moved in after graduation. Things were good for a while. My mother flipped her switched, decided she hated her, and the next 2 years were some of the strangest and most interesting of my life. At one point my mother didn't talk to me for around 2 months, choosing to grunt at me instead. She also made up stories, about events that kinda happened but not really - her telling me "hi" turned into her greeting me and me flipping out on her and screaming and whatnot. My father realized something was up when she made up stories involving him. She has a thyroid problem, so we say that's why she sometimes acts insane.

We moved into an apartment, but things didn't go well. I was slightly bitter and she was one of those people that nagged a lot. I would go to work all day and she would sit at home, then complain when I wouldn't make supper and whatnot. She used to be sweet, grateful, and funny. This was about 5 years in to the relationship. We had settled down, but damn if it wasn't getting rough. I smoked quite a bit and we both gained weight and were just unpleasant to each other. That's not to say there weren't good times, because we still enjoyed each others' company and felt unease when we weren't around each other. Note: I still miss her company, so.

One day she woke up half insane. My friend said it might've been heat stroke since we had a giant window in the bedroom. A few weeks later, I was sleeping on the sofa and her on an air mattress in the living room (AC worked better in there) the day before I was heading off to QuakeCon with my father. I thought she was yawning, but she was really having a seizure. That was a pretty scary moment - saliva was flying everywhere, her face was blue, and ... just unpleasant.

Since I've been rambling - quick version of events:

She had to quit work because her medication required six months to a year to adjust to whatever her problems were. I was working for two people up until then. One decided to hire someone full time, so my pay was cut in half.

She moved back home.

We had no insurance, so, and after just spending $600 on dental bills, I then wipped out my savings and paid for her entire stay in the hospital (plus ambulance, plus whatever the medical industry could do to charge me). During our time apart I paid for a lot of her medication, many repairs on her piece of crap car, our storage, and for bills in general. And I managed to save up around $2,000-3,000. Our visits went well, but I was generally tired from school and work and she wanted to move back. Note, the $2,000-3,000 was after a while, so for a long time there simply was no money to move back with or live on.

After a while she tells me she is getting sick. She isn't eating. She tells me its us. Me being the genius that I am, I think, "Maybe a break is in order!" It turns out, that's what she was shooting for. The day after I say that, she concludes we're broken up, a week after she "meets" someone new. A few weeks later they are engaged. Now they're married.

A 5-6 year relationship down the drain. She only paid me 1/3 of the pittance I asked for - when it was all her stuff in storage. I've yet to get that and most of my belongings back. She's been married about 7 months now. She did randomly email me asking questions about setting up routers and stuff. Ah, gall.

I have no problems in saying that I acted slightly like a bitch during the break-up. I concluded that, if this ended, the past 5-6 years were kinda trashed and all my future plans were trashed as well. So I did what I could. Her reasons weren't very good: I bring up money because she accused me of not saving any for us to live on; she said she wanted to be a police officer and was upset because I wasn't crazy on the idea, I said she would change her mind since she mentioned going to a business school just a few weeks earler and she swore she wouldn't, and last we spoke she was going to the business school; and she wanted a kid and I didn't, and she had no plans to have a kid last we spoke. In the end, she ended up grunting when I told her I loved her. That teaches you something, it does.

I haven't gone out with anyone since. I don't have that big of an urge to, really. There are quite a few weird stories I left out since this is already long. I've found that reading has helped. I sleep with seneca, adam smith, and rod serling now. Those are some fantastic orgies.

[dhex]

[seryogin]

[Mister Toups]

I've uh, made the mistake of lying to myself about a girl for the past um, seven years or so.

Never again.
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where were you when nana komatsu got a wii?

[baronpatsy]

edit: why did I make this post?

I don't remember! It was a bad idea, though.

[Shapermc]

When I was a sophomore in High School I had a small crush on a girl. Her name was Megan.

We started to date after a while, a friend hooked us up. I was in love. I did all kinds of crazy things for her like buying her an $800 prom dress. I was also her first, and I told her I would wait until she was ready. I waited 2 months. But she was in a grade above me. In my junior year I realized she was going to graduate and it struck me weird. I was in love, I had had long distance relationships before, they don’t work. I have to do something. Now.

So I worked on graduating early. I worked my ass off and even took a class instead of lunch. I worked my ass off to study and take the ACT early. I did well enough to get into my school of choice (University of Illinois Chicago) and it was only a 20 min drive from her school. I visited her most weekends and sometimes during the week I would make the 1.5 hour drive each way just to see her for an hour or so while I was still in High school for that last semester. I was young and dumb.

So I graduate early and go to my dorm room. It was the first time I lived somewhere I could smoke inside, so I smoked 3 packs of Camel lights in about 6 hours. I had to switch to menthol after that because anything without menthol left a terrible taste in my mouth. Other than that it pretty good. I had a decent enough roommate (Erem): we both smoked (cigs and pot) and we both brought nice audio and TV set ups. We had 3 TVs (one for video games, one for TV and one for anything else in a corner) and 15 speakers (2 were so big that we bought some fabric and put them back to back turning them into a coffee table). Him and I played though FFVII FFDog style. For 96 straight hours we handed off the controller and tried to stay awake, sleeping only in shifts and never watching any videos while the other was sleeping. I still have the save on my memory card of the 96th hour.

So we got along. He would occasionally drive me to see her, other times she would drive and even more frequently I would take the train (as a freshmen I was not allowed to keep my car on campus and couldent afford parking myself). All three of us would go to parties and hang out and smoke. It was some good times for a month or so.

One morning, after she had spent the night, I woke up early, and I was alone in bed. I shoulden’t have been. I thought that perhaps she got up and went to the bathroom, the door closing had woken me up. I got down from bed (we had to bunk the beds because of all the speakers) and when I hit the ground, I looked into the bottom bunk and there she was, with Erem.

I think I screamed and they both woke up. I don’t remember for sure. It is all hazy. She was quite and just went straight to the bathroom, ignoring my questions. I followed her into the bathroom, continuously questioning her. He went to get breakfast. She locked herself into a stall for a good 20 min without saying a word. Tears running down my face, furious as hell, I took a step back and kicked the door open. It swung in, hit the wall, bounced back and closed shut again in less than a second. In that amount of time I saw her face; fear and pain was etched into it.

I knew at that moment that what ever it was that had happen, no matter what, I could never recover myself from that single act. I went back to the room and just sat down in a corner. After a few more minutes she came in and got her stuff, still silent, and left. I said and did nothing. 15 minutes later Erem came back in and put his hand on my shoulder. I should take this time to mention that he worked out a lot and was easily many degrees stronger and about 6 inches taller than I. Calmly, as though he was not part of the problem at all (and as if there were no problem) he told me:

”Matt, man, you can’t just blow up on someone like that. The things you said and then kicking in the door. I mean, she doesn’t want to see you anymore.”
(‘what did I say? Oh god, my mind is blank. What the hell DID I say?’)
“I am surprised that you did not know. I mean, this has been going on for over two weeks now. She says that you have been emotionally distant since you got here. I have seen you, all you do is watch movies and play games. You never take her out to dinner or to any clubs, just parties around here. The time I took her home after the party on Halstead where you DJed she told me all this. That was the first time we spent the night together. You never even noticed.”
(‘how the hell am I supposed to know this? We have been dating for over 2 years now and she has never even hinted at this. And why would I need to keep tabs on you or her? She called and said she made it back alright. What the fuck is going on here!’)
“She doesn’t want you to call her or see her. If you need to give her anything or tell her anything, let me know, I will get it to her.”

I never said a word, I just sat there in shock. He then left to probably see her off. It was then that I finally got up. Hot tears streaming down my cheeks I opened my drawer and got out a pocket knife. I took it and started to draw a line down the inside of my wrist, starting at the base of my palm to my elbow. I did this a dozen times or so, then just applied pressure. I don’t remember thinking about it, just doing it. Blood started to pool up and leak out: I dropped the knife. There was 2 inch opening in my wrist and I did not even know I had made it. Seeing the blood snapped me out of it and I started to think, and cry even more. I grabbed a towel and just wrapped my wrist with it. I then sat back down in the corner. I had no plan anymore. I just waited for something.

Shortly after Erem came in, no more than 5 min later. He shouted at me a question as to what I did. I had no answer. He grabbed the back of my arm and pulled me into the hall where he washed it out in the drinking fountain. He then put about 5 Band-Aids over it and wrapped it gauze. “I’m taking you to the emergency room!” Immediately I grabbed onto the piping of the drinking fountain and held with every ounce of strength I had. Unable to pull me away he told me to fuck off and die, then leaving to go somewhere. I got up and went back to the room.

Nobody came back that day. He left around 7am Sunday morning. I expected campus police to show up or something. I just laid in bed. I must not have hit a major artery as I am still here. I lay there all night. I laid there most of Monday too. I missed my first class ever that day. I never went to another again either. It was barely a month into school. I just lay there, still wrapped up and bandaged, not even getting up to drink water. Monday night he came back around midnight. He went straight to sleep. My head was hurting so bad that I got up to get some water for the first time. Something about his return surprised me into moving. When I returned to the room he said something that blew my mind: “That was a bad move. Now you made it so you probably will never get back together. She thinks you are abusive and mentally unstable.”

Abusive? What the hell? The only nearly abusive thing I ever did was kick that fucking door open. And what the hell right does he have to give me advice like that. I went back to bed. I did not move again until Tuesday evening when I got something to eat for the first time. Nothing much happen the rest of the week. I signed up to get some psychiatric advice at the campus clinic (where I was put on, then one week later took myself off of, Zoloft) Wednesday. Then on Friday night Erem came back, from somewhere with her I assume, to sleep in his bed. With her. Right the fuck below me.

If you ever want to get really fucked up in the head, get in a situation like this. I don’t remember what happen much. I tried to ignore it. I doped myself up really good on pot, acid and shrooms. I didn’t care. Once I was so fucked up on acid that I started to go to the bathroom and the popcorn ceiling of the bathroom turned into blood and started to drip down onto me, so I fell to the ground in fright where the pipes of the urinals became snake like and scared me further into a corner where I spent the rest of the night in fear. I did a lot of stupid things then which were all really poor choices.

She slept below me about every weekend for about 3 weeks when Erem had to go to Pakistan… or somewhere around there, for a week. It was while he was gone that I got him kicked out of school in a grand scheme that involved; getting a hold of his attendance records and his late bills. When he returned the locks had been changed and he had to go to the campus police to get them to escort him to the room to remove his belongings. I never said a word the whole time he was there.

On his way out (he had brought her, who was wearing much more makeup than usual and wearing much more revealing and expensive clothes than before) I grabbed Megan’s arm lightly: “Wait.” She turned and looked at me over her shoulder. “I have to go.”

”I love you. Still. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop it. Just know that I will love you where every you go and whoever you are with.”
“I don’t love you anymore Matt.”

I let go and she walked the ten feet in front of her where Erem was, slipped her arm around his waist as he started to push the cart full of his items off to the freight elevators. I never saw her again for over 2 years, where I happen to be in the parking lot while she drove past me, unbeknownst to her. I have not seen her again since and that was over 6 years ago now.

I loved her for the longest time. I don’t think I do anymore, but those feeling are buried so deep now I can’t honestly say. I had a few relationships after her, but every time I treated the girl as though she were Megan. I just compared them to her. I was so noticeably messed up in the head that one girl actually used me for sex (which, thinking back was not that bad a thing). This went on for about a year. Then Sara, an ex-girlfriend from my early sophomore year of High school (who was only at our school for one semester) tracked me down. We had remained somewhat friends (though a mutual friend) for years, but she liked me still… for some ungodly known reason. So she found me at work one day and told me (somewhat jokingly) that she was looking for a boyfriend. YES, I am an idiot. I told her I don’t really know any guys that are single.

Since this story has gone on for too long as it is I will make this quick. I admitted to her that I had compared all previous girlfriends to Megan and said that I wouldn’t date her because I liked her and did not want to do that to her. I had to be honest, I told her no. We hung out and went to a few parties, and then I asked her one night if her offer was still available. “Yes.” 6 months later we were living together, and another year or so later we were married. That was 5 and a half years ago we got married. Right now I am in a hotel 690 miles away from Sara, and I miss her dearly and love her very much.

God, this hotel room smells like that dorm because I switched back to smoking Camels. I am going to light some incense.
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“The average man has a secret desire to be a swaggering, drunken, fighting, raping swashbuckler.”
-Robert E. Howard in a letter to a friend circa Decmber 1932

"There is no place in this enterprise for a rogue physicist!"

[seryogin]

Dess!

At least you didn't receive a letter that basically said, in garbled, fierce English: "Sergei! You're the most vile, evil person on the face of the earth and I regret ever trusting you." I've received two of those now and I, aside from being slightly unnerved, and suffering a short bout of self-loathing, was actually pleased to receive such letters.

To clarify, my relationships are usually filled with many painful verbal exchanges and earnest declamations, with as much multi-layered dialogue as a Dostoyevskii novel, with plenty of self-doubt and self-pity occupying the space between the word baloons, that when they finally become something stable, when both of us are thereotically happy, I become bored and quickly lose interest. After a girl has submitted to me completely, I realize that I no longer really have to do anything, that she's made up her mind to like me, and so her flaws become more apparent with each passing moment. I then begin thinking that I need--nay, deserve--someone better. Which always makes me smile, because the day before I'd be telling my friends in all seriousness that I couldn't live without that girl, that losing her would be worse than death. So causing someone at least a bit of the pain that I felt in pursuing them is a fine consolation prize as far as I'm concerned.

Though perhaps I'm just seeing the wrong girls--at this point, I'm not seeing any girls at all--because a year ago I went out on a date with a rather pretty and sweet girl two years my junior. Mister Toups may remember this event for I had sent him a whiny letter about it last January (at that point Toups had just joined the staff of TGQ and I wanted him to edit my Chrono Trigger essay; which he did, most marvelously). We may have just had dinner and gone to see a rather shitty movie, but that night was the happiest I'd been in years. I was quite miserable when she didn't return my calls.

[dessgeega]

[seryogin]

[dhex]

that's a good story, shapes.

[seryogin]

[dhex]

no more dramatic fiction for you, young man.
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[ryan]

I'll just say a few quick stories. These are more weird than anything else. Also add a little levity to the mix.

There were six people in their house, seven when I was there, and only one bathroom. One night I woke up ready to go. It turns out her brother was taking a shower. It was around 2:30 in the morning. I figured he had just got home from work, so no big deal. He gets out about, oh, 45 minutes later. I get up to go, but then I hear the shower start again. Repeat this about six or so more times. He doesn't finish until nearly 6 in the morning. Take a time when you really, really had to go to the bathroom but couldn't until you waited. An entire early morning was spent like that. The few times I tried knocking on the door he never heard me. I asked her why he took so many damn showers (could've been up to eight) and she just shrugged her shoulders and said, "He likes showers."

He was once arrested for kidnapping after he ran away with a girl he was going to marry. Her parents didn't approve so they went a few towns over. After they got back and the charges dropped, she broke up with him a week or so later to go out with one of his friends.

Her parents were going camping one weekend that I was over and had just left. I was looking for her cat and was bent under a table calling her name. Her parents walk back in, recognize what I'm doing, but noticing she isn't there her mom goes, "Here pussy, pussy, pussy," while her husband laughed and she winked at me. That was awkward.

Her step-father asked my ex to give him any videos if we had any or would ever make any.

Her father was in jail when she was growing up due to selling munitions from a depot while he was in the military.

She was once an adamant animal rights person, then the last few times we talked she had been out hunting with her new friend. She also used money that was due to me to buy him a new gun.

Combined with everything else, I believe I was dumped for white trash so she could become white trash. If my ego had balls, that would life giving a swift kick to them.
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Come to me, Mordel. We shall depart.

[seryogin]

That was a phenomenal story, Shaper. It’s the best thing I’m going to read in a long time, certainly better than this Murakami novel I’m forcing myself to plough through.

Having never been in a situation of that sort, I can’t really comment much on it…I’m even a bit jealous of your story, actually. So much life! And well it’s comforting to know that there’s another person that tends to cut himself during moments of great emotional duress.

I also liked the way you described the Silent Hill-esque moments of your going into the bathroom on all those drugs.

Your story is a profound one, I had thought those had become extinct, and to be honest I wasn’t expecting something like it from you, Shaper. To me, you have always appeared as a reasonable, upright cowboy-adventurer, a voice of sanity amidst the chaos, a “pirate…for GOOD” as aderack has once characterized you. This story has changed my entire perception of you and TGQ.

[Shapermc]

[Shapermc]

[seryogin]

Well, here at the Gamer's Quarter were all cutting edge (ha-ha).

And I'm also not a whatever trendy attention grabbing technical term they use for people that enjoy cutting themselves now and then.

It's just that about three times in my life I've felt emotionally compelled to gash myself. I guess I just wanted to be like Basara from Samurai Showdown III.

And, well, yours is a story that needs to be told. We are after all NGJ. If you want my advice, and I doubt that you do, then I'd say flesh out the details of playing FFVII with Erem, bring up the Tekken story you told to dhex, insert a few videogame references, and print it in the next issue of TGQ, our readers would love you for it.

[Shapermc]

[seryogin]

[Shapermc]

[seryogin]

[dessgeega]

[seryogin]

Somebody needs to hit the puns, with Toups being absent all the time.

[TheRumblefish]

[Scratchmonkey]

Rumble, your post made me feel unnervingly nostalgic.

I've been with the same woman for 10+ years now (we've known each other for 15). We've broken up once (it lasted 4 days) and it used to be that way, that there was something between us, only in our case it's because we'd never really learned to talk to each other. We cared, we just didn't know how to be selfish and not be guilty about it. For a long time, the relationship felt like when you're coming down from acid, when everything seems dirty and you're being pushed along by something that you can't comprehend.

Or the feeling that you've just fucked something up and you can't do anything about it. Lying or not telling someone how you really feel seems to be the main ways to create this situation. It's the latter that's really damaging, where you either don't trust the other person to be able to listen to you and either you wind up feeling like you can't tell them or worse, you never realize that you could tell them.

I do think that that's an important part of a relationship, is realizing that you need to be selfish and that the other person needs to be selfish and then comprimising and working on things from there. It's like I said to Toups once, when he said that he's looking for a girl that he could sit in silence with, that the tough part is not the silences, it's when you're both tired and cold and somebody has to go out and get groceries or clean the litterbox or do laundry.

It feels like a lie to say that we've been together so long. We've really only had this current relationship for 4 years. We both had so much to learn and I can't say that the process is over or that it will ever be over. We're getting married in August; and I almost feel like apologizing for it. Keep the faith.

[Shapermc]

[Scratchmonkey]

[Shapermc]

[friedchicken]

[dhex]

[Swimmy]

[TheRumblefish]

[Faithless]

I just wanted to chime in and say, yeah. That was an incredible story, Shaper.

It makes me wonder: Is vunerability an integral part of NGJ?
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www.call-to-adventure.com
Don't Refuse.

[GSL]

Is it really vulnerability though? I consider vulnerability to be an essential facet of the human condition. If a person is in a true romantic relationship, that's when they're usually at their most vulnerable. When you really think about it, it's a pretty ridiculous catch-22: you're leaving your defences wide open to what could be the most devastating enemy of all. When the gamble pays off--i.e. you get married--you feel like a million bucks for pulling it off, but if things fall apart, the result can be totally devastating. And afterwards, it's far too easy to just close oneself off, to wall away that vulnerability in order to not take the chance of getting hurt again. Those who manage to keep themselves open, and succeed in spite of the past--well, there are fewer things more admirable or inspiring. I mean, happily married for 5 and a half years? That's pretty amazing, Shaper, considering what happened. I know I would be utterly unviable as any sort of relationship material if I had to deal with something like you did--I'm just tenuously bearable as is. I admire your honesty in being able to talk about the experience! All of the narratives in this thread, in fact are inspiring in their honesty, and the ordeals that people have gone through. It makes what I thought was my horrible relationship story seem positively petty in light of most of the tales here.

And, uh, just disregard me if any of that came off as stupid, pointless babble.

[dhex]

i really do think part of the problem is the idea that there's a final destination for any relationship in order for it to be "good." sometimes thing aren't "meant to be"; sometimes long term partnership isn't viable, or at least not in the normal sense.

one of the most emotionally healthy relationships in my life lasted one evening. shit, i owe a lot more to her than i did to the next two girlfriends.
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