Part 1, MJ Chronicles.

Note to those who know me in real life: This gets very personal, and I'm talking about specific and graphic events with people you may know. If you know me, you probably know the person I speak of, and I'm revealing a lot of personal info about him as well. Read at your own risk.

I feel like sharing. Sometimes I just need to get something out. This isn't something I want on my very public blog. And I began to write this and now I sit with a terrible feeling in my stomach. I thought about abandoning this altogether but I cannot. I think I need to finish it and then burn the pages of my notebook where I recorded this. It will be painfully hard to do. I want to do this in parts. First, it will make it easier for me to write, and second, maybe people will read it if it's not one huge post. Though I'm never sure who's reading this. MJ is what he called me.

See, I had this dream about this guy. Let me just summarize my relationship and history with this person. We went to the same small college. We were acquaintances. Somehow (I don't remember how) we began to have feelings for each other. They quickly developed into very intense feelings, too intense for my 18 year old self who had never had a serious relationship before. We had to keep our relationship secret for many reasons. I lived with people who were very suspicious of my activities and said things that my rebellious teenage self couldn't stand. It made me want to rebel more. My parents had not yet realized that yelling at me and following me when I went out did more damage than good, no matter how good the intentions. We had a relationship of sorts and we hardly talked about our feelings. We were together-ish for several months before we even kissed, and then after that things moved at light speed. I did things that I should not have done, not because I thought they were wrong, but because I moved more quickly than I was comfortable. Since then I have had issues with anything past kissing with anyone, men or women, save for one time, which was the day I realized I was not straight.

Well, I saw him for the first time in years this past August. I was a fool to think I was mature enough to handle what I got into. When I wrote my friend an email telling him we were OK, and I was handling it, I really did think I could. That clearly was not the case. So P, I wasn't messing with you, if you've read this far. I thought he and I could have a grownup relationship.

I dug up my old notebook to see what I had written. I had a feeling he'd be at this party I was at, because I just recently told my dear friend that he and I could be in the same room again, and I'm assuming the message got passed on. The funny thing about us is that no matter what, we cannot be in a room and not be watching each other. It has always amazed me the way that we simply ended up together after seeing each other from across the room. And this whole thing was my fault, because I insisted on following him out. And then saying something to him. I can't even explain what came over me. But really, I knew what I was doing. So did he. We talked and talked. I wasn't able to look him in the eye after a while. We were leaning against the back of my car. And then he was there facing me. He looked at me and gave me a hug. It sounds so innocuous, but it wasn't anything of the sort. I just sort of melted into him and it felt so familiar. Everything fit exactly the same way. Everything he did after that, the way he stood, his arm around my waist, it just felt the same. For anyone who has ever had an addiction, it was the rush of feeling you get from falling back into something you quit. I did quit him. I moved away for college. I returned and though I had grown, and gotten LOTS of therapy, it didn't seem to matter. What shocked me though, is that all he did was simply lean over me and I couldn't stand up anymore. I had to grab the car to steady myself. No one else I've met has elicited that response to that degree. I couldn't decide if I liked it or not. It was intense and scary. It was too intense for my 18 year old self, which is part of why the whole thing was confusing. I looked up at him and he asked me not to. He said it was the look I always gave him when I was coming out of class and meeting him. The next step was hanging in the air for so long. I refused to admit to myself what I was thinking about. I put his hands on my hip and he put mine on his back. Our faces were touching and I could feel him breathing. He said he was really concerned about doing it. And I said I understood. Then he just kissed me. I couldn't even breath after it. I was shaking. Again, it was intense, but overwhelming and quite frightening. I did refuse to let him in my car. WAY too many memories. So we sat in his car. And we held each other like we were never going to see each other again. We even talked about dating again (yes, I'm an idiot, I know this). We parted ways late.

It is difficult for me to be around him because my feelings are confused. I was attracted to him in that moment, so much, but feeling massive guilt for it. I know that he's bad news at least for me, and that he has caused me so much pain, but I still can't manage to stay away from him. For years after we stopped dating (or whatever we were doing) every time I saw a picture of him, my stomach just dropped to the floor. I used to think it was because I was still angry with him. No. I was wondering where he was, what he was doing, and then feeling so guilty about it that I couldn't stand to even look at myself. So when I see him, I cry because my feelings are so confused about him. When I saw him at the Super Bowl party a year ago, I knew I had to leave right away. I was shaking. But I couldn't stand to leave without at least catching his eye once. When I got to Emily's house after leaving the party, that's why I was crying. I was crying because my feelings were so complicated and I felt guilty for them.

The next day after this time in August he basically said, well that was great, but I can't date you. I probably couldn't date him either, but the point was, it was like I got myself back into my addiction to him for nothing. Whether it was for my best interests or not, it felt like I was losing him all over again. I cried to Emily for so long. It doesn't matter that he coerced me into doing things I wasn't ready for. It doesn't matter that he loved me almost obsessively. I was so wrapped up in him for so long that when we're together, it's impossible not to feel the connection. First time I said "I love you" and meant it, first for many things.

It will continue from here another day. I know this isn't at all related to any of my other posts, but this is not only a place for me to discuss gender and sexuality, but a place for me to post personal things that don't belong on my other blog.

It ends better than it sounds here. It really does. Thank you for reading if you've gotten this far.