2011-2012 College Year
So I’ll just write this on here
2011-2012
Retrospect on the School Year
They weren’t kidding when they told me that going to the graphic design department here in Edmond was considered mental bootcamp. By no means was this easy. To the point to where I think I lost more than I gained. And what’s really crazy is that a lot of these losses weren’t directly from the school program, but what made it hard was that I had to continue on even as I kept losing.
My first semester was pretty intense in and of itself, but I could handle it. I had a boyfriend at that time, and I knew that he was right there rooting for me behind the scenes. We barely got to see each other though. My hectic school schedule, his 12-hour work days from two jobs. The most we’d see each other out of the week would be about 2-3 hours. By the time we did come together, be were both so burnt out and distraught that any love we did have to give each other was fatigued. Towards the end of the semester, our differences were becoming more and more highlighted. Things really got bad when the semester ended.
I had to move in with him for the three-week intercession so I could keep my job. Not even two days after I moved in, we broke up. Our goals, our likes, everything was different. And I knew that the next semester would be so hard that I wouldn’t have any time to give to him, especially since he worked so much. I thought I was doing the right thing. And looking back, I was. But the painful and tormenting awkwardness that lingered from living together, as well as having to keep quiet about our breakup until after the holidays, started to slowly disintegrate any feelings we once had for each other.
I hate to say this, but the next semester was even harder. In both life and school.
Not even a day after New Year’s, I had to drive to Texas and pick and my mom because her and my dad broke up over his alcoholism…for the fifth time. And I had to do it, because I’m the responsible son. She could always count on me to be right there to come save her whenever it didn’t work out between her and my dad. It’s a gift for her and a curse for me. After that rendezvous, I effectively cut off my dad. It was clear to me that he didn’t want to get his shit together and he wasn’t worth dealing with, even I had only known the man for about three years now. But I was more angry at my mom, because I know that she’d go right back into his arms the moment he swore that he’d stop…again. For the sixth time. She said she’d never fall for it again, but battered-woman syndrome was the glue that always kept her attached to him.
But soon, the semester began again, and a new…”friend” came along. And he was compassionate. I told him about my troubles, and he listened. But he also criticized everything I did. In our time spent together, we started to fool around behind closed doors, though it seemed he was getting off more than me. But hey, I’m a bottom. That’s what we do. In this, though, we both elected that we were not in a relationship and that we wouldn’t talk about it outside of the dorm walls. Yes, that’s right…I committed dormcest; the number one rule not to break in college. But I was still distraught from my breakup, so naturally, I would give myself to anyone showing me the slightest amount of compassion and sexual release. I can’t help but feel that deep down inside he knew and was just taking advantage of me for it, but I highly doubt it. The person in question is too dim-witted and naive to even think it. If anything, it was more of a “the wolf takes what he wants” ordeal.
Alright, so let’s swing the focus back on my dad and mom. Earlier in February, my dad started calling my mom again because his mom was dying. My mom used to take care of her, so she wanted to keep in touch. I barely knew the woman because I just met my real dad three years ago, but I still felt connected to her strongly. She was dying and it was ripping me apart because I spent twenty-one years of my life not knowing who she was. About two weeks after, she was gone. My mom and I went on a weekend to go to her funeral. I remember her looking so beautiful and peaceful, as she should have.
While we were down there, my dad was already making promises to quit drinking and get his life back together, as he thought his mom’s death was a wake up call. And my mom at first didn’t buy into it, but the seed was planted and within two weeks after we got home from the funeral and I went back to school, she was already down there again living with him. And it was all working out because he did slow down on his drinking. They were even talking about getting married, which I was okay with. Crazy people should marry crazy people to spare the sane people the pain of being around them.
Of course, they decided to call me on the week of their marriage to tell me all of this. And because of work and school, I couldn’t go. Of course, they said that they wanted it to be a private affair, but these are my biological parents getting married. My mother could have me around for two marriages with men who weren’t my father, but the one marriage where she married to my real dad, I couldn’t go. And as much as I wanted to be happy for her, in the back of my mind, I felt that it wouldn’t last long between them and sooner or later, I’d once again have to come to her rescue.
And I could feel the emotional weight starting to slowly crush me even more as the projects in school got harder, my weekend job was getting more demanding, and my ex-boyfriend and I were going from “just friends” to being “passive strangers”. I virtually felt like I was fighting all of my battles alone…
Around this time, my “friend” was slowly become more and more clear about what an atrocious sack-of-shit he was on the inside. He was popular, made friends with pretty much everyone on the campus…essentially, he was the high school element put into college. But the few that really new him knew that he was a childish, self-serviant, hit-and-run douche.
He essentially cut me off with our bedroom romps, and told me the only reason he was doing it with me because he thought that gay men were easy (he’s bi) and that we was just sad because he couldn’t have his best guy friend as a boyfriend. If I had no inhibition, I would’ve stood up, kicked him in the balls as hard as I could, spit on him as he lay groveling from the pain, and then walked out saying “do….not……ever…..fucking…..use me.” But I have manners and inhibition, so I did nothing, especially because we had to work on a project together in a class. So I had to make nice. At the same time, I knew that our sex-time would end because we weren’t never really together, so to a point, I didn’t have a right to complain. But I still felt used nonetheless because, like I said before, he was the only one getting off in our romps. He’d want to leave right after he got off, actually.
As we worked on our project together more and tried to hang out outside of class as “friends”, his ugliness was becoming more clear. He was abrasive, clearly just wanted to be friends because he has to be friends with everyone, including every skinny gay guy on campus. He had a temper like a five-year-old when he didn’t get his way. Generally, he made me feel worse as a person because he’d always highlight that I never went out to make friends in college because I holed myself up in my room doing homework, that I was making a mistake trying to remain friends with my ex, that I had a horrible creative process (even though I got Dean’s Honor Roll in Graphic Design for the semester before, so I knew he was blowing hot, jealous air), and that I was no fun to hang out with.
After we turned in our debauched project, I made no effort to be his friend anymore. I essentially cut him off and, without saying it, let him know he could go fuck off and die. There were a few times that he tried to talk to me, but I walked past him and ignored him. Around this time, it was clear that we both hated each other intensely.
Well, a few days ago, I sent him a message on Facebook trying to make amends with him, saying that even though we won’t ever get along and not be friends, we could still bury the hatchet and not be so hostile to each other because we would see each other next semester. I haven’t heard from him, so I’m assuming he wants to remain bitter. Oh well, I tried to be an adult about it.
So it seems I’ve spent more time talking about the horrible things that have happened to me this semester than the good, and not even mentioning school.
That’s the thing….the work I did for school was the best part of it all and was my saving grace.
I thoroughly enjoyed every project I did, even if it did demand a lot from me and nearly robbed me of my identity and social life. I actually garnered a lot of respect from my fellow students because they loved my work and my talent and was one of the ones who was considered a shoo-in to the program. One of my group projects, not involving the douche, was even considered to be shown in an exhibit on campus.
When I did my final portfolio review, the teachers had nothing but good things to say, other than some craft issues which they said were just minor nit-pics. They told me that I was an amazing student and was looking forward to having me back next year.
I’m also dating again. I have about five to six guys I’m talking to and they really want me to move back home already so we can all date, and it really makes me happy to be so wanted :-) My best friend and I who I’m missed sorely are going out more and I have all the time in the world to work when I get home.
So, basically in the end, even though I fell apart under my emotional weight, I still triumphed and passed through with flying colors. And I’m so glad I did. I made mistakes and I learned from them. I put as much effort into everything as I could.
As of today, I don’t want to look at this semester as the most darkest time of my life, but as a success story. And I know that in the end this will all pay off.
Plan B
I originally started this blog because I was going to post some of my dirty art on here, but I found it too difficult to have to keep up with two different accounts for art. Honestly, there are just not enough hours in the day, or enough hours to do what I want.
I’m thinking about turning this into a visual blog, just taking pictures and posting them to describe my day, maybe. This might be just a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, but maybe I might try and keep up with it.
I’ve tried keeping up a YouTube account where I describe my daily life and things going on in it, but that didn’t go so well. The fact that I do it all from my camera and that I can’t even properly edit videos kind of ruins that. Perhaps I’ll handle the text better.
Essentially, that’s what the title is about…Plan B. And pretty much lately, I’ve been forced to go to plan B, only to discover that my Plan B’s should’ve been Plan A’s from the beginning. Frustrating, it is, but at the same time, I’ve come to realize that there is a stability in Plan B.
I’ve been through a slew of relationships so far this year, probably more than I’ve ever had in my entire life in a single period of time. A lot of them were good, others…should’ve never been attempted. Right now, I’ve found someone who just might be…the one. I won’t say they are yet until I know for sure, but from all I’ve been with in my life, he seems to take the cake.
My last relationship…I don’t want to say it was a mistake, but it was doomed from the beginning. I hold no negative feelings for him; we were just far too different to be anything but friends.
It started out like many others, some guy messaged me on a dating site, we text for a little bit, I make an effort to go see him despite the fact he lives two hours away. And on our very first date, we both felt something intense. I don’t know what it was, but it was intense. We waxed romantic about each other and our lives, at which point I said “you know, I think we just told each other that we love each other without saying it”.
His retort: “I love you.”
Normally, that would’ve been a red flag. That should’ve been sign number one of “you’d best run away, boy.” But…there comes a time in your life where you’ve been through so many men, felt lonely so many times that you just want it to end at any cost. You’re sick and tired of looking that you can’t stand it anymore, so when the first person tells you that they love you and you just met them, you’ll willingly buy it, even though the back of your head says your in for a world of pain.
(Another red flag was that he hadn’t came out of the closet yet…with his parents, at least).
We met a second time that week. And it was the same, except we were already talking about meeting each others parents and friends. I’d drawn him a picture to show how much I “loved” him. He bought me a Asketchbook that I valued. It was all going well…until our differences were getting amplified.
Let me put it shortly, I’m a Cancer, he’s an Aquarius, two signs that do not have any compatibility in love. I’m a deep, romantic soulmate, he’s just a boyfriend who’s friends with everyone. Now, I’m not an obsessive person, or I at least try not to be, but it was hard barely getting the time of day from him, even though he lived two hours away and had his own life. But, even though I felt like a lot it was fabricated, I felt like I was always being put on the backburner. I just brushed these feelings off, but then I learned something about Aquariuses, especially after doing extensive Zodiac research. Aquariuses tend to love you strongly at first but do become disenchanted later on. That doesn’t mean they are bad people, that’s just how they are. Cancers…our hearts are on our sleeves. When we say “we love you”, we damn well mean it for eternity.
And that was the dilemma, I was a hopeless romantic and he wasn’t. At times, I felt like my romantic gestures were met with a “that’s nice…”, and it offended me, though he didn’t mean to. What ultimately ended it between us was when I asked him when we could start sending dirty pics back and forth. A rather odd topic to end it on, but I’ll admit, I’m a dirty-pic fiend when it comes to a relationship. I dunno why, it just gives me a thrill. But even though we stopped saying that we loved each other and went back to like, I still felt the need to show my deep affection for him.
Yes, I know that we should have never said the L-word from the start. But I was partly to blame for it because I instigated it…and it’s my nature. A lot of other things happened between us for the rest of the week to where, even as friends, I felt like even less I mattered, to the point to where my texts weren’t even answered in the same day. But…that’s just how he is. As I am a hopeless romantic, he lives in his own little world…and there’s nothing either one of us could do to change it. Besides, it was not supposed to work out for what was coming…
Needless to say, I felt depressed and felt I needed to change my life. So, during my relationship with this guy, I started looking into going to college to Austin so I could go back to school and reinvent my life. Go be a game concept designer. And it all went well, at first. It didn’t seem that anything was going to get in the way at all. I made a very-well received portfolio and I would have no trouble transitioning down there.
But then financial aid came in, which was a different story. My government assisted financial aid would only cover a dent of what I would have owed for the year, so the rest of my costs would have to come out of my own pocket, around $8000. I couldn’t get any scholarships or grants because I always slipped through the cracks on them, so my only other alternative was…private loans. However, nobody I knew who wanted to help had good credit, and nobody I knew with good credit wanted to help. So…Austin fell through. And it crushed me. Along with my breakup, I was devastated. I felt life was all over and that I was intended to remain where I was forever, as well as be single.
And then I got a random text from a guy I once spoke to…
During the time, I was on the way to getting to Austin, so I told him that I didn’t want to start any relationships because I didn’t want to start something serious only to abandon it later. He understood and we remained friends, yet we were practically playing dirty-pic volleyball later. The next day after our exchange was when I discovered that Austin was not in the cards. By now, I was scrambling to find a different school.
I tried to go to Norman, which is where my last relationship was and an hour away from my new friend. However, there was nothing there for me to take. I tried everywhere else…nothing. So then, I tried the college in the town where my friend lived in. And their college had exactly what I wanted. What I thought I was going to get from Austin was not what these guys had to offer. Plus, they were cheaper, cheaper than the last school I attended.
On my first day of touring this campus, which I loved, I was to meet this guy for the first time. After the tour, I called him…no answer. So I left a message hoping he would respond back soon. Almost an hour passed and not a word from him. By this point, I was getting anxious. I’d been stood up so many times in my life that for it to happen again for the…almost fourteenth time, it probably would’ve thrown me into an anxiety attack, because I was starting to think that I was unlovable. That everything that guy ever told me was just a lie and he was not serious about anything.
After nearly losing my mind in my own delusions, I got a call from the guy saying that he was getting his oil changed and his phone didn’t have enough power, so we waited until he was done. We finally met up, though I hid that I was mad that he was so late. We talked for an hour and, apprehensively, I started to like him. That same feeling that I felt for the last guy was there, albeit…more tame.
When I left back for home, as I lived two hours away and had to go to work, I received a text from this guy that said..
“I really wish I would’ve picked up my phone earlier when you called…”
And that…really touched me. I could tell that it was real what he was saying and not just fluffing me up. I knew because he is also a Cancer. We can tell when what is said is real and when it isn’t.
Long story short, we are officially a pair. I’m waiting for my acceptance letter from the college to get the ball rolling on moving down there in August. And then this guy and I can hang out more and not be a long-distance relationship, although we text like crazy back and forth and tell each other how much we LIKE each other.
So…my life was derailed. So many plans I had made, and most of them went under. However, I made Plan B’s, and it turns out they had more to offer than the Plan A’s ever did.
At times I still get frustrated that thing don’t always work out the way I want them to…in fact, I’m still terrified that something will happen with this situation. But…I’m gonna keep faith that it will all work out. I have a feeling it will because…this all isn’t Plan A happening again. These are things I should’ve been doing in the first place…
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