Love Hurts……

5 Sep

Recently a lot of things that were buried have come back to haunt me again.

When I was a confused, frightened 15 year old boy I fell in reciprocated love for the first time ever. He was older than me, gorgeous, a football player and told me how much he loved me. There was only one thing that had to be kept a secret; that there was an us. He didn’t want anyone to know.

I was submissive to him. It felt like that’s what I should be. He didn’t hurt me and I enjoyed the sex and the feelings of butterflies whenever I thought about him. Life was great, I had escaped the fear of being found out and it didn’t matter that we were a secret. When we were alone nothing else in the world mattered. I was in love.

As time went on we maintained the secrecy, we had our own secret code to communicate and arrange our secret meetings (no instant messenger then).

Then, one night, we had arranged to meet at a pub but I had to stay away from him until the night was over. This was nothing new. The plan was simple. He would leave and we’d go in opposite directions and meet up at his bed-sit when the coast was clear. Everything was ‘normal’ when he came up to me on the way back from the loo, handed me the keys and told me to go. Change of plan, he’d be home soon.

Soon enough he was. I was undressed and couldn’t wait for just another night of passion. How wrong was I. It was clear something was wrong. But what? I had, apparently, spoken to somebody he didn’t approve of. Butterflies turned to fear. He had hold of me by the top of my arms, digging his nails in. I told him he was hurting me and I didn’t even know what I’d really done but found myself apologising. I tried to kiss him; he moved aside. Precisely what happened next is still a bit of a blur but he hit me in the stomach and I went down. Two, maybe three digs later, I was on the floor in tears. Then he raped me. I don’t think I actually said no. I was confused, crying and in a lot of pain. I just froze. After, I can remember being in bed facing away from him so he couldn’t see me cry. Every time he touched me a shiver went through me.

In the morning he got up and left as if nothing had happened. When he’d gone I got up and walked into the bathroom. In the mirror stood a devastated, crying mess. Bruises and nail marks on my arms, a huge bruise on my kidney and an intense pain; the result of two cracked ribs which acted as a reminder of what he could do, even six weeks later.

He came back, told me I shouldn’t have provoked him and I apologised again. How could I still love him? I don’t know but I did. I put up with his paranoia, temper and abuse for almost two years. I blamed myself.

And when it was over it was him who finished it and I still cried and begged him to stay with me.

It was a long time ago but not the last time. What was wrong with me? Was I so desperate to be loved I’d take anything inflicted on me.
It wouldn’t happen now and I would never treat anybody that way. I don’t even know why I’m saying this. I suppose it’s freed a skeleton from the past. Another piece of embarrassing history. He might even see it and think about the damaged he did to an already damaged boy. And, I still love him. How twisted is that?…

But, as I’ve recently discovered, punches hurt less than unrequited love…


3 Responses to “Love Hurts……”

  1. Mork September 15, 2016 at 9:54 pm #

    Well done,takes guts

    • Steve Walker September 15, 2016 at 11:33 pm #

      Cheers dood. If only everyone was as straightforward as you, life would be so much less complicated……

  2. keyythana March 10, 2017 at 1:22 pm #

    i admire you so much ❤

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