The one guy I’ve never written about. The only one who was not a fleeting hookup. The one that has been in my life for over a year and a half, if not exclusively, at least consistently. He turned me into “that girl”. He is a narcissist who literally pouts when he can’t get what he wants. And he had me so turned around, that he made me hate me at times. Ours was the quintessential toxic “non” relationship. Here is the story of NP (no where even near his real initials-more on that in second).
My coworker decided to swipe for me on an app I hadn’t tried yet. I match with the hottest guy ever. He’s tall, perfect body. From the text conversations, intelligent. I meet him at his house and while it wasn’t the instant chemistry I now know exists , it was fun, and all I could think of is that this super hot guy was interested in MEEEEEE! We hung out, messed around (blow job) and it was great.
We continued to talk/text and see each other once or twice a week. He was (is) super convenient, lives three miles from where I live and my office. It was always the same thing. We’d be buddies. Mess around. Blow job. I decided to do some research after this was going on for a couple of months. He’s a retired NFL player with a local presence. And for that little bit every week, he was mine. It was fun. Until it wasn’t.
I went for a few months without letting on that I knew who he was. The truth came out after he threw a sock at me while getting dressed and I accused him of throwing like a girl. Apparently retired football players don’t think that’s a very funny joke. Everything changed that day. He had a TV appearance he was filming that night for sports commentary. He told me to watch closely when it aired, he was going to give me a nod and a smile and I was the only one in the world who’d know what it was for.
NP started traveling for his side gig after that. It was supposed to be understood that I was available for him and him only (which you can see by the former blog posts, that wasn’t going to work for me). When he was coming back in from out of town, I was to drop everything I was doing, and be there waiting for him as soon as he got home. If I wasn’t, he would ignore me for days, he’d send me Snapchats of songs that were meant to put me in my place. (Chris Brown-This Ain’t-for example) or pics of him at a famous R&B singers wedding to remind me who he was. The more he did this, the more I’d resist him, just to prove to him that, to quote Pretty Woman, I was “nobody’s beck and call girl.” But I used him too. Anytime I had a bad dating experience, I’d call him up. To remind myself that this unattainable guy had a slight addiction to me. Major self-esteem booster.
One night I was out and refused to be waiting for him at his house (I knew the codes) when he got home. The next day, he skull fucked me so hard I was bruised around my mouth. As fucked up as this sounds, that moment made any future blow job for any other man fantastic. I’ve always been talented in that area but NP taught me the ways of deep throating. It was kind of necessary as I really thought “This is the way it ends. Choking on a dick. How appropriate. And because of WHO he is, it will be all over the news too. Sorry Mom and Dad.” But this was the night that put forth the toxic cycle him and I had. Another time to “punish” me for not being there when I was told, he picked up his phone to text during a bad moment. All to show me I could be replaced.
It’s embarrassing to admit that this cycle went on for another nine months. Over the summer I moved and started working an additional job. I didn’t have much time for him. He ghosted me. Blocked me on every phone number and social media account. This was a guy that I’d been seeing for over a year. Now, I broke up with a three year actual relationship and didn’t cry. With NP I cried for two days. He’d never cut me out of his life completely. ANNNNNDDDDD….. then he came back.
I had grown accustomed to the fact that he was never wrong,. that everything was going to be my fault. And I admit I went right over when he sent the “we need to talk message.” He pretty much acknowledged that we were like a drug to each other. We made the decision that until one of us (him) got married (engaged or relationship didn’t even count) that it would be him and me. That this would keep going on.
Fast forward about three weeks later, I’m sitting in a booth across from a guy that terrifies me emotionally. He gets me. There’s so much chemistry around us that we almost got kicked out of a bar a few days later (more on that later). He refuses to have sex with me because he doesn’t want to screw things up. And he wants me to be his girl. And I agree to be his girl. The next day I get a NP message. “You busy?” I stare at my phone for a few seconds , press down on his name, and hit “Block User”.
So, NP. The end of our game. The fourth quarter is over. The stadium lights have dimmed. I’ve walked off the field.