At the time I didn't realize that he would have needed to get signed in. I didn't think to much of it actually -- except that he was now in my very tiny room and I wanted him out as quickly as possible. He did what men usually do when they're testing the waters; the big happy smile, lots of questions, offering to be helpful. All I could think to myself is who are you? For the better part of last year you drove me crazy and hated my guts, and now you're in my room trying to be friendly? It didn't make any sense.
It took me months of distance to get a clear perspective on the situation; there was something very wrong with him. Whether it was lack of maturity, lack of common sense, lack of empathy, or a general lack of control from some hidden drug habit that made him erratic -- he was bad news all around. And I was quite happy to be well and clear of him. But here he was in my room acting all nice and for a millisecond making me second-guess my clear perspective.
"Why are you here?" I snapped. I wanted to get this over with. There was no chance of being friends, friendly, or even a reconciliation -- so the sooner he got off his chest what he needed, the sooner I could be on my way to doing something a million more times enjoyable.
He wanted to get back together. He'd thought things over. He feels bad for the way he treated me. Don't I still feel the same way?
Uh...no. Very no. Was he kidding? He was a complete jerk to me. He bad-mouthed me to everyone and anyone that would listen. Called me crazy. And the thing is -- at one point, he probably did drive me to mild temporary insanity. A person can do that to another person. It's called mental cruelty.
But in any case, I had to deal with the present level of insanity that was now pleading (nicely) before me. So I told him that I didn't still have feelings for him, that I didn't want to get back together, and that I'm glad he feels bad for being such a creep. Let the past be the past. No hard feelings.
But that wasn't good enough. He started badgering me. Pleading. Offering to write apologies on my wall in blood. It got very weird very quickly. The lack of control he had over me started to show cracks in his fake smile and pleasantries.
I've never been one of those girls who gets off on destroying men. I just can't be bothered. If you don't want to be with me...fine. Your loss. I'll cry quietly for months to anyone else who will listen -- I may even try an attempt or two at reaching out, but eventually my pride kicks in and I move on.
I have a friend who was so pissed that her boyfriend broke up with her, that she chased after him for months only to eviscerate him once he was head over heels in love with her. Mild sociopath? I would say so. I mean, really...who has the energy?
So, while some women would be dancing in glee that he was having a moment of verifiable weakness and claiming certain "victory", I was just wanting the whole conversation to be done with. But he wasn't having any of it. He was getting angry that I wasn't humbly accepting his offer to get back together with him.
Sigh.
I looked him in the eyes to be straight with him; and that's when the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Some sort of animal instinct inside of me kicked in.
He got very calm. Looked at me harshly and said in a slow and controlled manner, "Fine. Have it your way." And then got up and walked out. I walked towards the door and watched to see what he would do. He was roaming up and down the hall looking in the open doors. I lived in a residence that was all women...so I wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for. It's not like he knew anyone on the floor -- they had all just started University a few days earlier. He looked back at me - glared, and then walked through the door of a girl who had a single dorm room.
At the time I wasn't really sure what his intentions were. Befriend someone on my floor and try the conversation with me again? Date someone on the floor and try to make me jealous? Or just show up from time to time to annoy me? I really wasn't in the mood for another round of him badmouthing me.
But it wasn't until the girl who stayed across the hall from the girl whose room he walked into that day came crying to me in complete secrecy; that I knew the level of danger was higher than anything my mind could have ever prepared me for.
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