Conflicted Love Chapter 5

The thoughts and events of a man in his mid twenties, battle with his own mind, and unrequited love.

I really don't know what's wrong with me. There is something wrong with me on every level, and I don't know what it is. I know the symptoms: falling in love with women who don't care about me, becoming uncontrollably bitter and jealous, wanting to waste myself at every moment of forgotten affection. Those are some of the internal symptoms, the external are that women I love never love me, people I care about never care about me, and the few that might leave way too soon.

I mean, f**k, it seems like Katelyn goes out of her way to not give a s**t about me, unless she needs a ride or someone to cry to. About a year ago she asked me if I wanted to go to a club, Club Corte, which I hated. However, I agreed to go, because it was time with Katelyn, and I didn't pass that up easily.

However, as always seemed to happen, once I agreed she suddenly wanted four or five other friends to join us. I always assumed this meant that she didn't like being alone with me, or perhaps these guys she wanted to be with wouldn't give her a ride, so she called the guy who always would. Whatever the reason, I know that when she went out with Joey, or Michael, or Patrick I never got a text asking if I wanted to join. 

Anyway, we get to the club and i'm standing in a corner trying to keep my huge gut and bulbous a*s out of everyone's way. Meanwhile, Katelyn, and her merry band of douchebags, were at the bar. They all took turns buying her drinks, as did several strangers looking to get in on any possible action. This went on for about two hours. Me standing alone and Katelyn being showered in attention and shots. To her credit once or twice she came over and asked if I was having fun, to which I lied, and she went back to her friends. 

Several times throughout the night I would try and make my way to the bar, force my way through all of the calogne and the fake comments they thought she'd like to hear. "She's too smart to buy that s**t." I thought to myself, as I finally made my way up to her.

"Hey! You decided to have fun?" she slurred, her eyes wild with drunkenness. It was hard to tell what she was more intoxicated by, the liquor or the attention.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, good, guys this is my best friend, like, he's one of my best friends." She shouted throwing her head back so the crowd of men around her could all hear, even though they didn't care.

"Yeah" i blushed a bit, but she was enthralled with a long haired man in his mid-thirties before she could notice.

For the next ten minutes I stood there, crammed against Katelyn by the crush of testosterone bearing down on both of us now. Eventually, one of the guys, advertising his love of Abercrombie and Fitch, squeezed in between me, and that was all it took until, yet again, I was in the corner, by myself, trying to stay out of the way.

I kept hoping to myself that Katelyn would notice that i'd been bumped out, and step in to invite me back over, or come talk to me, or something to show that she even knew that I was there, it never happened. Of course, I didn't even need to be there, because by the end of the night, when the club was closing down, she came running up to me, as I am getting ready to take her home.

"Hey don't worry about it, I don't need a ride, Tommy is going to give me a ride." She said smiling drunkenly.

"Who's Tommy?" I asked craning my neck at the flock, all waiting to find out who won the night.

"He's my friend I told you about, the cool one with the tattoo of a dragon on his wrist." This didn't help me at all, I just starred at her dumbfounded.

"Thanks for coming out, I loved seeing you." She said hugging me, I chuckled dismissively, "I love you." she whispered in my ear.

"I love you too." I whispered back. Totally aware that this was just placating me so that i'll agree to take her out next time too.

As I walk to my car I passed, what must've been, Tommy's black Audi. Inside Tommy and Katelyn were in the front seat, they were making out and she was clearly doing some handy work. 'F*****g great' I sneered in my head, i'm the one willing to pick her up, not that dick, but she still likes him more than me.

Even looking back on it now it was f*****g bullshit, who does that? I mean, I know we're not dating, but I picked you up, not him. I squandered my gas money to go to your house, and wait for you, and drive you to a place I hate. What'd he do? Show up, and spin some bull s**t platitude that was enough to wet your thighs? F**k off.

Of course she never heard any of that. By the time she called me again, asking me to see her of course I was there, me, the loser. I'd say that was the first of maybe six times that has happened.

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Sex, perhaps the most physical act that can have the largest emotional impact. Of course, that's not always the case, sometimes sex is just f*****g. I think I have a very healthy view of sex, I think it's great, and if someone wants to have all the sex they can get with all the willing partners they can find go ahead. It doesn't make someone a bad person for stacking some serious sex numbers. 

Sex can mean nothing to the people having it, but have an intense emotional impact on someone not involved. The thought of Katelyn lying underneath a guy with him thrusting in and out of her makes my hands shake. It's not anger, i'm not mad at her or him, it's a reaction that I don't quite understand. I know there is a lot of jealousy, but it's more than that. It's a reaction that is so explosive that the mental anguish causes very real, and very severe, physical responses. Each thought provokes a pain in my head that forces my eyes closed and my face to scrunch up. The rock that floats in my stomach jams up to my esophagus like a ping pong ball in a gas tank, causing me to nearly vomit. 

I wish I didn't have these responses for the obvious reasons, but also because I feel guilty about it. I know it's unfair to have any sort of negative feeling towards Katelyn for hooking up with any guy, it's wrong. However, I don't have the ability to change what seems to be a primal reaction. I tell myself, 'it's alright, she's an adult, it's doesn't effect you.' That never does any good. 

The times i'm able to calm myself down or forget for a while are always shattered when, for no reason, a flash of her sitting on top of some guy writhing naked pops in behind my eyes. 

It's gotten so bad that watching porn is painful. With each video I don't see some girl from Connecticut who trusted her boyfriend too much, I see Katelyn. I project the painful images from my brain to my computer screen. If I hear someone on some TV show or movie talk about sex, I immediately think they're talking about having sex with Katelyn. There are times if I just hear the word. 'vagina', the pain comes rushing back. 

The thought pops into my head 'it's not fair'. It's not fair that she is out with him, sucking his dick. It's not fair that she is letting him do whatever he wants. It's not fair that i'm all alone even though I care about her far more than whatever guy she's got is filling her up. I think 'she's being a b***h'. She's being a b***h because she's leaving me home alone, she's leaving me with no body to talk to just so she can go get laid, what kind of friend does that?.

Of course, I know that is all bullshit. There's nothing unfair or bitchy about it, it's her living her life, it's not her fault that i'm alone. It's a constant battle in my mind between the reasonable, intellectual portion of my brain, and the emotional crazed, jilted, and bitter majority. I know that makes me a bad friend, a bad person, and a huge tool, and I don't want to be any of those things. And if anyone knew of a way to change emotional response i'd listen.

I'm sure if I was having sex it'd be different. I imagine if I had a sex just once a month, or once every three months, these feelings would become much less extreme. However, i'm not having sex. It's hard enough getting laid when you're a fat a*s with no charm, but when you get panicked at the thought of talking to strangers it makes it impossible to meet someone. 

Tonight, I know exactly where Katelyn is at. She's out with her f**k buddy Dan. I know they're going to drive around for a bit, then they will go to his place where they will f**k for several hours. I know this, because Katelyn shares these stories with me, and I listen, with shaky hands and a scrunched up face.