Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
09/13/2024
At around 11:25 pm
It was a nice man and his friend who I decided to help get to a destination since they were stranded. The nice guy was saying how he had been having a terrible day earlier while I was just getting gas. It was mostly all fine, just awkward as they hailed from a different type of town. Probably in a gang of some sort. They asked if I was into weed, but I declined. When I got to the destination I declined payment from the nice man and he got out of the car. His friend said something, probably implying something dirty, but I was too dissociative to fully register it or think about it. He attempted to reach for my chest from the back seat. I stopped him. I should've made him pay more than $5 for every time he attempted to get me to kiss him with his words. He tried to kiss my cheek after giving me the money. He got out of the car. He told me I was pretty.
Nothing truly happened that night but I was nearly groped and was harassed. I don't even know if this could count as SA at all. It made me shakey when I got back home. I needed to get the smell of the men out of the car so I just doused everything in as much perfume as I could handle. The smell burned my nose and stung my lungs. I couldn't be that touchy with my partner, not when the image of his hands reaching from the back seat was still in my head. It's just a really bad memory, though it was two days ago.
I swore to myself the day after that I wouldn't let the ignorant man make the word "pretty" a venomous thing. That I wouldn't let myself entirely break down. I have weapons and not weapons in my car now, and on my body. Two items created by me, and one item originally for cutting paracord. I'm still shaky and weak. I'm still recovering from the bad memory from three days ago, still calming down.
I refuse to let cruelty take my heart, though I'm more weary now of who I should help. Who I should let in my car. Hopefully this world changes for the better soon.
My ex was never smart
My ex was never smart. Though he might’ve stored a lot of knowledge in that greasy mess that you call a brain, he is, in fact, this stupidest man alive. Or more accurately, the stupidest boy I have ever met. He’s always called me dumb and I can admit that to some degree that is the case. I am not perfect and I certainly have some areas which only serve to be blind spots but I am not dumb. I am not always stupid. I can make stupid decisions and still be intelligent. That’s what he gets wrong.
During the long period I have known him he has always insisted that he was smart. He even implied that he was often underestimated. A typical humble brag. A narcissist. That’s what he was. And like the fool I was, I believed every word of it. I thought of him like the next Sherlock Holmes and I was Watson, watching with wide, fascinated eyes. He fed me tales of teachers, praising him or of him using his phenomenal wit. Even when I discovered his incredibly low mark in DT, he defended that it was totally intentional. He has Asperger’s, by the way. So to some creditable degree, he was quite bright. He was an expert on trains and all that he was interested in. So why do I call him stupid?
Well, if he were even remotely smarter than he insisted he was, he would’ve known that intelligence is not measured by numbers. Nor letters. He would’ve known that there are many different types of intelligence and maturity. So yes, he might’ve been academically smart, but does that ever make him emotionally smart? No. And yes, sometimes I’m oblivious to my environment and often make laughable mistakes, but did that ever undermine my emotional intelligence or maturity? Did that ever make me stupid or less capable of learning? No! And he should’ve known that.
And If he were just the little bit smart as he so adamantly tried to convince me he was, he should’ve known or at least acknowledged that he is not me. He cannot tell all the times I want to be touched. Touched on the shoulders, the neck, the waist. He should’ve realised I am just as comfortable with distance as I am with a good-old fashioned hug. He should’ve realised I was uncomfortable from the moment, I said, “I don’t think we’re ready.“ and if he were the little bit mature as he put himself to be, he wouldn’t have pushed me to have sex with him, even if he was in the mood. He shouldn’t have been blinded by his lust. He might have been older, but in that room, the very room it happened, I realised he was just a stupid boy. And I was a stupid girl to him.
I was not shy, William. I love my body more than you say you ever will. And that was why I was trying to protect it.
I know how to communicate., William. You just don’t know how to listen.
I may lack experience, but I do not lack the knowledge of when the time is right. And that time wasn’t.
You might deem yourself as mature, but at that very moment, you were the most childish, selfish, arrogant and ignorant human being I’ve ever met. Though I might be younger, naive and gullible, at least I know how to accept the truth. And that will make me more mature than you will ever be.
So yes, I’m disappointed to say I dated one of the most stupid people on earth. A lot of people will call me a hypocrite, but opinion is subjective isn’t it ? So he might be the most smartest person on earth in his eyes, a person beyond his generation, but to me? He is just as human as me. Just as naive, arrogant, boastful, egotistical, selfish and “dumb” as me.