Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve
Church Stained Glass Windows. Courtesy of Unsplash
“The price of wisdom is innocence. So, I have definitely become wiser but sadly a little less innocent.”
Mahira Khan
Hello, again. I took a month off while being sick and have been bitten by the writing bug. At least you get valuable reading material for your potty time. I’m kidding, of course; Unless, some of you actually do that…
If you read my piece Sunflower/The Shade, I mentioned the situation I’m about to explore briefly (If you haven’t read it, what are you waiting for?). The following is a story about my naivete, the loss of innocence, a broken spirit and resilience.
Alexa, play “Would’ve, Could’ve Should’ve” by Taylor Swift…
“If you would've blinked then I would've looked away at the first glance. If you tasted poison, you could've spit me out at the first chance. If I was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? And if I was a child, did it matter if you got to wash your hands?”
There’s been a few pieces where I have discussed my awkwardness and inability to attract the opposite sex, especially in high school. It’s not that much better as an adult because if not for the advent of online dating, I probably would never go on dates. I know you probably think I’m exaggerating but think Josie Geller in “Never Been Kissed”, Mia Thermopolis in “The Princess Diaries” and Jenna Rink in “13 Going on 30” awkward. Ok, I’m Josie Geller minus to whole getting eggs thrown at me and being asked to prom as a joke; I actually had a real date to everyone’s surprise even if I was the alternate.
Anyways, let me take you back in time almost 20 years (really aging myself here) to the year 2006…
I was fresh out of high school. My folks never let me do much of anything as a teenager, to be honest. I was able to go to the beach and mall with my friends but that was about it. I went on my first date senior year. It was very rare that guys paid me any attention save for my crush junior year (I’ll tell you all about that later) and two of my cousin’s friends. But I was scared of dick. Let’s be blunt. I was afraid to get pregnant and afraid of being one of those girls that guys talked about in locker rooms. I didn’t know that was the way to get guys to ask you out on dates. Putting out. What a novel idea.
I was matriculating at a local junior college because my mother convinced me not to go to Pitt (fool that I am!) and I caught the eye of a 22-year-old. What inexperienced 18-year-old doesn’t want to be noticed by a more experienced man? Unfortunately, he sounded like Napoleon Dynamite and had “Frodo feet”. That should have been a sign to run. Inexperienced me was eager to catch up, especially since it felt like I was the only virgin working at my first job ever: Victoria’s Secret. Almost all of my co-workers had boyfriends.
Needless to say, we walked around campus talking and he asked me for my phone number and if we could go out on a date. On this date, Frodo Feet informed me that he had broken up with his girlfriend not too long ago but things were definitively over between them. Being young and naive, I took him at his word (I have a habit of doing that). Later that evening, we drove down to Ocean Beach and laid on a blanket. I will admit, there is something about the beach at night with the moon shining above that can make one feel frisky. I was still a virgin at the end of the night but we did enjoy some “fooling around” before high tide.
“All I used to do was pray. Would've, could've, should've. If you'd never looked my way…”
We continued seeing each other. He would meet me on campus and walk me to class. Sweet, right? It was until I became seduced by the idea that someone found me sexy. I’d always been wanted to be seen as something other than the awkward geek and now it was finally here. How could I resist going to a secluded Mission to make out after an after school dinner? That wasn’t all he had planned. I remember vividly the first time I had been tasted. It felt good to be wanted even if it was in front of the church at Mission San Diego. My first orgasm felt even better. I was hooked. Little did I know, Frodo Feet was keeping a secret.
Our last hangout session was when he drove me up to his family’s house in Alpine. We hung out and did some NSFW activities. The best part of this experience was the many corgis his family owned. Later on, he took me home and to my surprise, his ex-girlfriend was in my inbox on a day later claiming she was pregnant with his baby and he had been sleeping with her behind my back.
My 18-year-old mind was sent reeling. How could he lie? Why would he lie? I thought they were over? She’s pregnant?!
“If you never touched me, I would've gone along with the righteous. If I never blushed, then they could've never whispered about this. And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was. But, Lord, you made me feel important. And then you tried to erase us…”
Not to sound Orange Guy like, but at first Horse Face said she didn’t blame me. That changed after Frodo Feet and I met on campus to discuss things. I didn’t make a scene. What would that change? It wouldn’t change the shame I felt giving my body for the first time to someone who deceived me because of my desire to feel wanted and ignoring the warning signs of getting involved with a man fresh out of a relationship. It wouldn’t change the fact that she was pregnant with his child. I told him I would be fine and he should focus on being a good father to his unborn child and hopefully a good partner going forward to her. He called me “Resilient” and he was shocked by my maturity. I had days to cry in private including in the stock room at work before this conversation.
I thought that was the end of it. I guess the irony in me telling this story in my own blog is that I felt devastated when she shared the dirty details of my sexual encounter on her blog on MySpace and nicknamed me “Slutty McHobag”. I was duped and lied to as was she. Why was she blaming me? And why did he tell her dirty details of our hook-up? I felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Not only did he lie to me but he shared details that allowed her to try to publicly shame me. I called him and of course my call was forwarded. I left him a voicemail telling him what a piece of shit he was.
It didn’t stop there. The harassment continued in public when we’d see each other at a hookah lounge we all happened to frequent. I wasn’t one to run. If my friends liked going somewhere, I wasn’t going to not hang with them because as I like to jokingly say: “I ain’t no bitch”.
Anyways, the glaring at me as well as making sure to do the cough “Slut” cough if I walked by continued. She continued sending me harassing direct messages on social media to the point where I went to the police. Cyberstalking laws ain’t shit. So, of course they didn’t do anything. Eventually, I’m guessing she gave birth and found something better to do because she left me alone.
Years pass. Seasons change. It’s now 2009 and the last thing I expected was to have a message from Horse Face, but there it was. I went to the kitchen to grab some yogurt, sat down at my computer chair, took a deep breath and opened the message. I wasn’t expecting an apology but there it was. I guess she and Frodo Feet didn’t live happily ever after. Allegedly, he was a deadbeat and she was raising their child by her lonesome. While I felt compassion for the child, I didn’t feel anything for her. It wasn’t hate. It was just indifference. I never once checked-up on how they were doing on socials because I didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to be left alone. Was it nice to know someone got their karma? Sure, I guess. It still doesn’t change what happened or the trauma I had to deal with. I just said simply: “Thank you for the apology”. And that was that.
Even though, I’m indifferent to it — it doesn’t change how I wish I had been more street smart and less trusting. All-in-all, our mistakes make us wiser. I just wish it wasn’t at the expense of my soul.
Take us home, Taylor.
“God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be. The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind. I regret you all the time…”