Sam Paul - Why I Committed Suicide

Amazingly she wasn’t turned off; in fact I think she may have been flattered. Some part of me must have given her a window of understanding into what was going on in my head and she saw it was pure, or she began to glimpse how powerful her presence was to me, even while in a dream state. With a twinkle in her eye she asked what I was so embarrassed about. She basically said “let’s go” and led me by the hand across campus where there were still patches of people flittering about, going home or rushing to put in some late night library time. We spent quite a bit of time trying to find an open building that was mostly empty and when we did find an empty stairwell in the bottom floor of the campus computer building we were both nervous and excited. At one point we could have easily gotten busted by one of the janitors, but he went out the doorway a floor above us. It was great spontaneous sex in a public place. It was cheap and tawdry and nothing like my dream, but it was wonderfully gritty and most of all it was real.

Dreams of fantasy don’t have to deal with locked doors, musty stairs, dust, nosy people and finding places to put your clothes where they can be got at in a hurry in case of problems. For once in my life though, one incredible dream of fantasy actually inspired reality.

Ok. I’ve just been deluding myself and living in a fucking fantasy world where I thought just maybe one day the simplest thoughts about what I want out of life might come true. I’m so fucking wired up that I wish I could just cry or scream or find any way to release this madness inside of me. I can’t believe what a dumbass I am to actually think I was actually okay with having HIM be there with her. Out of sight, out of mind my fucking ass! I don’t really want to put any of this on paper but I suppose I should have some historical reference that I can go back and look at and confirm WHAT A DUMBASS I AM just in case I ever forget.

Slowly but surely I’ve been building a solid friendship and relationship with Jenifer. She is the woman I love but we are technically not “dating” and I thought I understood about her and this long-term relationship she has with Kristoff. I guess I always thought that I would slowly be able to fill in whatever it is that he provides her, as I got closer and more intimate in her life. But like everything else about girls, I either don’t understand or they don’t make any fuckING SENSE!

Today, not less than an hour ago, I think I actually felt my heart rip in two. I rode over to her apartment in Cement City after my swim class and her roommates let me into the apartment. They were having band practice and I stumbled past all the amps, mics, cords and other musical crap they have lying around the living room. I’ve been here enough times and listened to enough of their crappy music that I feel comfortable walking around wherever I please in their apartment now. They tell me Jenifer’s sleeping and I’m thinking, how sweet, I’ll sneak in and curl up with her as she rests. I get to her door, give a light courtesy knock and then walk in like I’ve done what feels like a thousand times by now. We know each other well enough that this should be cool. STUPID. STUPID! STUPID!

I walk in and what the fuck do I see but Jenifer and Kristoff, naked having sex on her bed. It was one of those moments where everyone just freezes for a second before time can start again. I mumbled a quick apology, shut the door and turned to walk out of the apartment as fast as I could, her roommates giving me this look that tells me they knew what was going on and didn’t even think to stop it from happening. Those dumb fucking assholes! I was feeling like a whore and I was in a stupefied numb daze, which is why Jenifer caught up with me before I could navigate the living room and escape.

She turned me to look at her and asked me if I was alright. Alright? ALRIGHT?!

She was wrapped in a bed sheet, her gorgeous face flush with sex from another man, her blue eyes deep and glistening as she looked at me with genuine concern. I must have had the hangdog look of the century on my face or a great big flashing neon “worlds biggest dumbass” tattooed right on my forehead. Her concern was sincere but unapologetic, so I just nodded dumbly or said I was okay or something, anything to get the hell out of there. The walls in her apartment that seemed so cozy before were small and cramped all of a sudden. I needed to leave. Right then. I knew Jenifer could see that I was barely holding it in and definitely on the verge of freaking out but she wouldn’t let me go, making me look her in the eyes to see if I was ok before the grip on my shoulders relaxed. I just nodded and I guess the situation had been salvaged as much as it was going to get because I left. I walked right out the door with her standing beautifully naked in her sheet and her roommates watching us like an episode of the fucking “Real World”.

I stopped on the way home and put my hand right into the middle of the biggest pile of fire ants that I could find and just let them crawl over my flesh while I cried, the ants biting and injecting their poison into me until I could finally feel the pain physically. It felt good to feel something again, and it felt good that it was painful. Of course now I realize that was really fucking stupid because my hand has swollen up to twice its size and its full of poison which itches madly, but it was what I needed at the time.

In retrospect I guess I’m flattered that she reacted so quickly to come and talk to me, rushing out of the bedroom in the middle of doing it and all, but what the FUCK! Dammit I feel like such an ass. I know she likes me, probably even loves me because she was scared she had hurt me but even though it’s comforting to know she cares, it hurts a lot more now that I’ve seen them together. I guess I can’t accept her being with him out of casual habit anymore. There has to be more between them that I don’t know about. I’m a fucking fool for thinking a relationship of a month and a half could compete with what they’ve had for so many years. A harsh reality check for me I guess but necessary. I just wish I didn’t love her so fucking much now. Mea Culpa I guess. Fuck it.

You know I’ve always wished I had a widow’s peak. There’s just something about having your hair come to a point on your forehead that says “I am mysterious, I have influential powers of darkness at my disposal.” I think maybe it’s some sort of Dracula complex, I’ve just always been fascinated with somebody’s hair making an independent decision about the best way to frame a face. Oh well, one of life’s mysteries I guess. Maybe the reason I mention the hair thing is because my hair is starting to get long again finally. Last year it was down past my shoulders, a savage blonde mane that I defiantly chopped off half of in one of those spite-my-girlfriend-adolescent-rage-type deals. Most men don’t realize what a pain in the ass it is to grow out your hair really long. All that shampooing and conditioning and combing and constantly preening is ludicrous, no wonder women are all crazy. You can’t turn your head a certain way or your vision gets obstructed, you can’t ride in a convertible or you get knots, you can’t even do anything cool like put it in girly pigtails. If you are a guy there are three options: ponytail, not a ponytail, or stuffed under a hat. Bald men probably would be shocked in disbelief at my heresy (bad pun) but picking hair out of my ass every time I bathe is a constant chore that nobody thinks of until they are in the maw of the beast. My hair is a beast that consumes my head and accumulates smoke, dust and pizza grease juice funk like a wet old smelly mop.

I know I haven’t written much of anything since I found Jenifer and Kristoff together in the sack a few weeks ago, but I guess things have actually gotten more intimate between me and Jenifer since then. Whatever happened that day just happened. We both know there will have to be a choice of some sort soon but we haven’t talked or thought about it at all.