Turning Tables

Author: A

In the days leading up to The Walk I had a discussion about looking for a great guy to be in a relationship with. Considering all the attempts I had went through over the summer, although fun, they were nowhere what I was looking for. I was working with a few wonderful people who decided that I should go on The Walk, and never knew I may have come across Mr. Right (this was a horrible idea). I was just so sick of being alone, that I ended up saying, “Fuck it, why not?”

I got ready for The Walk, and who do I run into first? Marc, “Mister Summer loving”. Marc is a whole other story, but God damn, you will love that one. We exchanged numbers because after we saw each other last he left the state and I deleted him due to some unknown circumstances I knew nothing about at the time; like a warrant out for his arrest and his crazy ex-wife. You know, small details that guys fail to mention. So the girls gave me a goal (if you are one of these guys I’m sorry) to get as many numbers as I possibly could and see where it all went. It almost felt like I was back in high school trying to make sure I dated every kind of guy available. I even dated a frat guy and two college football players my senior years of high school, so I kind of had been down this road before. Within the first hour any guy that bought me a shot, I got his number. By hour number two I was hammered. I remember walking down the infamous Walk from bar to bar, eating hot dogs and chips every damn place we stopped. After riding a bull, flashing my boob (yes just one boob) to the local preacher man who told me I was going to hell I arrived at the local hole in the wall.

Who am I kidding? Most of the bars around here are holes in the wall.

I see a guy who was one of my first boyfriends and another guy I wished was one of my first boyfriends. So this is how I flipped it; making out with my first boyfriend, then I told him to get a hotel somewhere and I would meet him (total Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion type shit) I never did have any intention of meeting him, although I told him I would (bitch move; but I knew he was full of shit as he always was). The other guy, I thought, once I flashed him my boobs and made out with him maybe we could have made it work (don't mind my drunken logic). So I did all of that, and that was it, it was a “no go” from there. It was time for the next bar.

I get to the nearest church and run into “Turning Tables”. For the sake of the story we will call him “Gary”. We exchanged numbers and I said I would meet up with him later. But I just kept on walking. The rest of The Walk led to me coming home and napping for two hours, then waking up and getting ready to go out again. In my drunken stupor I had invited a person who I thought was a friend over, yeah, not the case. He attempted to take advantage of my drunken stupor (that remembers this part) throughout my constant “no's”. He finally got the point and left. I went back out with friends, went to someone's parents’ house and kicked it on the roof all night until the sun came up. That was the day I drank for twenty-two hours.

Gary had contacted me and all was going well, and we decided to meet up. I met him soberly at his house and we talked and had so much in common. I remember him ever so slyly coming over sitting next to me and putting his hand around my waist, then leading me into the bedroom. I flat out told him that I wasn't that type of girl. He then told me that he wasn’t that type of guy. I resisted a few more “dates” until I couldn't anymore. A girl has needs, and damn it if he wasn't good at anything else he was good at making sure he fulfilled those needs.

For about a month this coming over and hooking up continued. I started to question whether him and I were in a relationship considering he talked to me every day and he was telling me everything I wanted to hear. About three months into the relationship he told me about how he had stayed the night with his co-worker but nothing happened between him and her. He then said “We aren't together so it shouldn’t matter.” It was about this time that he also started calling me when he was too drunk to drive. I remember going to his family home on Christmas day at two in the morning to get him. A few days later he decided to say that we should make it official, since we were together.

During our official relationship, sex just got better and better. I got bolder and bolder, going places I had never been before. I remember one time his friend came over and I sent him a text stating that we should fuck with his friend in the living room. He told his friend “I'll be right back”, and the rest was history. There was something exciting about the thrill of it all. I have several battle scars from the fireplace; word to the wise: never have sex next to a fireplace or hot fireplace utensils.

For months we would have really good days and really fucking awful days. He would argue with me time and time again about absolutely nothing sometimes until six in the morning. One time, I remember leaving his house crying at six, because he made me feel like shit. Finally one day after him making a remark about how God awful ugly I was, and apparently stalking me, I said “that's it, it’s over, lose my number and don't talk to me ever again.” About six months later, we ran into each other at a local bar. This was going to be closure. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was over him and all the shit he put me through. I was tired of his turning tables. We had this long drawn out conversation, I explained to him over and over again, how he made me feel like shit. Like I was nothing, I no longer needed that in my life and as a matter fact never needed it in my life. I felt better about seeing him in person and getting it all out, was the timing and place perfect ? no. But , I was over it.I never thought this guy would of been who he was.

Adele has this song on her album called “Turning Tables”, which describes our relationship in full detail. Listen to it and you will enjoy it. I reflectively look back on the relationship I had with “Gary” and think “what a learning experience, I learned how I no longer wanted to be treated. How certain types of draining friendships and relationships are not healthy and I'm a better, stronger and wiser person now”. I really honestly wish gary, best of luck in all that he does. We just were not a good match platonically speaking.

NOTE: With “Gary” I also learned it is definitely not about your size; it is about if you know how to work with what you got. If he did nothing else well, sex was always great with him. I mean great...that is all carry on...