Hating Him

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about a couple's abusive relationship and how it escalated into something completely different.

Submitted: April 04, 2017

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Submitted: April 04, 2017

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I hated him. A moment could pass the memory that I had of him, but no moment could ever take ahold of what I didn’t like about it. I hated the way he looked. The way he moved. The way he talked. His arrogance. His ignorance. His narcissism. His authority. Every so often he’d call my name just to leave a snickering laughter after it, knowing I would be the first to crack in the pressure of his antagonizing behavior. 

I was easy to instigate. Easy to violence, and prone to benevolence. I knew him long enough that he would flicker like a light ready to diffuse and take advantage of my weaknesses. We had a class together every single day of the way and within that time frame he would frame his day around mine. Meaning that I would have to invite insult after insult to my face. He had a little clan of his acquaintances snicker along with him just to rile me up more. They enabled his antics more so. It started with a handball to the back of my forehead. I thought this kind of thing ended in high school. Apparently not.

I turned with the shock of pain behind me to find him, sitting in the same black leather jacket, the same skinny black jeans, and the plaid shoes, laces untied, snickering as he called my name once more.

“Hey Tim, why do balls seem to like your head so much? Huh? You faggot.”

It pissed me off, mainly because he knew I was gay. The problem wasn’t in being gay. It was that he was the only one that knew. Not to mention we were in Catholic school no less. I moved onto college, but my parents insisted that it be a prodigious Catholic one. So it makes you wonder why he was the one in the wrong dress attire, when clearly every other man there wore a suit and tie. To make a long story short, his father was the dean and in order for his father to alleviate satisfaction to both hisself and his family name, he mandated that his little boy get some structure by that of the Lord. Little did the Lord do for him I tell you.

I didn’t bother responding. I nudged my glasses backward. Soon after came a point in time when the ball hit the back of my head again.

“You know I thought it was a gravitational thing. That balls were just attracted to you. I can see now that it’s quite the opposite. You like it don’t you? That’s why you sit there and take it like a pussy? Poor choice of words right? Pussy. As if you like that shit.”

I didn’t have to say a word. No amount of words would have risen my transgression, and no amount could digress the situation. I sat there and took it. Sister Sammy couldn’t bother to notice, far too absorbed in how the Protestant Reformation reformed the early century architecture of Protestant Cathedrals. I could only sigh in response.

What made the matters worse was not only him being the only one that knew I was gay, but him having controlled it. He let nobody know about it on purpose, just to make sure that I would be his bitch. Anything he wanted to do to me he could, otherwise he’d let everybody know my secret and I would be shunned by the entire community. Not just the school, but my family as well. Like I said, I hated him.

Surely the comments he would make would all give the impression that others that heard would believe him. But no. To them, it seemed like a joke. Gay. It was an illusive mystery to the rest of them, as if it was an illusion fabricated by atheists in order to mock the sanctity of the Lord. God, it confused the shit out of me. How allusive everyone could be to him. I couldn’t stand to look at him. So usually I wouldn’t.

But on this particular winter night, after my way back to the dorms, his pack of goons dismissed him and he followed me all on his lonesome.

“Timmy, Tim, Tim. You disappoint me, you know that? You have the audacity to be here. In this school. In these classes. In my class no less. And fake being one of God’s children. You’re just scum. Filth. You belong in hell. Maybe I should send you there today.”

Immediately a chill raced across the winter wind and across the hairs upon where the pain was laid. I could hear the distasteful hatred. I didn’t have to turn behind me to hear it. I ran and kept running, as far and and as fast as I could until he caught up with me in a dingy abandoned alley. A dead end for me. And I thought it was a dead end to my life as well. Until he smiled. He continued his laugh for a tiny bit until he grew closer to me, slowly caressing the side of me.

“How was that babe?” he said to me. Growing closer as he started to whisper and tug his teeth against my ear.

“Hey, knock it off. I’m not carrying about with you here in this shitty place. Why do you always have to treat me like shit anyway? I’m sick of it. Can’t you at least treat me like a human being?”

“What do you mean? We talked about this. We can’t have anyone finding out about us. So we agreed that the best-”

“No, you agreed to that. I said fine for your sake, but I didn’t expect you to bully me the way you do.”

“You were fine with it yesterday.”

“I’m sick of it. I love you, but…you have to stop this act. I-I get it okay? I know you don’t want us to get caught together. Especially me. My family would have my ass on Lucifer’s seventh circle of hell if they knew, but why are you going as far as you do?”

“Well…because I know how kinky you get when I boss you around,” he said snickering again by my ear.

“Can’t you be serious for one god damn second? It’s making me doubt if you really care about me.”

“Tim, you know I care about you right? I know it seems like I’m taking it too far, but if everyone else thinks that we despise one another, there’s no way they’d think we were together.”

“Can we…can we just talk about this upstairs?”

“After we’re done.”

“Done? Done what-?”

He started to kiss me. It wasn’t very passionate. It was needy. Hasty. Sloppy. Like he was deprived of sustenance for an eternity. When he was like this at first, I thought it romantic. Like that he really wanted me. But I started to realize he just wanted it. I was his first boyfriend. He was my fourth, and even at that point, i didn’t mind taking things at his pace. But he was just so needy, bossy, and vindictive that it was hard to manage. He would always dominate me and the way I handled my life as he pleased. Anytime I said no, he’d make a snarky joke, and have his way with me. Sad thing was that I let him. I was slightly taller than him, a little more muscular, and it’s not like he could really top me. He was scrawny, underweight, and as pale as the moonlight. Still, I had affection for him. I just wanted him to appreciate me once in awhile. I pushed him aside this time though.

“Look, let’s…just-just head upstairs okay? I’m not in the mood.”

“Timmy, you always say that. We're all alone here. No one will see us.”

`“That’s not the reason I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not still upset about what happened back there are you?”

“What do you think? Of course I am! You treat me like shit all day in front of your pack of goons and everybody else around me-!”

“You know they don’t mean anything to me! I don’t even like being around them either! They just-just happen to tag along with me!”

“Oh and what? That just gives you the right to treat me like shit? And have them treat me like shit too?”

“No! But I told you, it’s best this way!”

“It’s best for you! I can’t do this anymore with you…I can’t…”

He was so scared. I hadn’t seen him so scared before in my life. He took a few steps back away from me. 

“Wait…what are you saying? No-no-no-no don’t. Please. i’m sorry. Just please…please don’t say what I think you’re going to say. Look, I won’t go as far as I did. Okay? Please. Don’t leave me. You know I love you.”

Truthfully, I was prepared to leave him for awhile. He was just immature. He was a boy. I was 22 for God’s sake. He was 18. And he had the mind of 13 year old going through puberty for the first time. He just wanted lust. He wasn’t committed to anything. I could see it. The problem was that i still felt something for him, and every time I saw him afraid to be without me, it kept my mind in a mirage of belief that he loved me the way I loved him. Weakly, I gave in and hugged him. I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my glasses closer to my face.

“I won’t. I…love you too. Let’s just get out of here okay? It’s cold anyway.”

He nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. He then slipped his leather jacket over me. I already had a thick coat.

“What are you doing? You’re going to catch a cold,” I said to him, but I saw how bravely he looked toward the night sky. I could tell some maturity was there as he softly spoke, not looking toward me.

“I’m sorry. I let you down today. I’m…I’m just afraid. I don’t really mean what I say when I-I say that stuff back there. I just want to keep my father from being suspicious. Once I’m done with school the next three years, I can be with you. And my father won’t have to know. We’ll be together.”

I didn’t like the thought.

“At least take the coat back numskull. I’m not taking care of you if you get sick,” I joked.

“I don’t care if I get sick if it means you won’t. I messed up today. I won’t mess up tomorrow. Or ever again. Just…take my coat.”

I blushed and let my hands wrap around his arm as we walked back toward my dorm. And as I thought the tender moment was complete, it was relinquished once we made it to my dorm. He shoved me through the door and pushed me across the entrance hall in front of the security.

“Hey! Why are you shoving him for?” the security guard said with a halting voice.

“Because I fucking feel like! What are you gonna do about it baldie? My father runs this school and can have your ass in a heartbeat! I’m just going upstairs with that bitch over there so he can do my homework for me! Are we clear?”

As much as the security hated him, they even had enough sense not to cross the dean’s spoiled son. God knows why I dated him for so long. As he shoved me in the elevator, he snickered again and brushed me off, as if he was doing me a favor. I shoved him back.

“What the hell was that? What happened to not messing up again?”

“What? I thought I took it down a notch. I didn’t do anything that bad.”

“That bad? You shoved me in front of security, nearly made me fall on my ass, and then you called me a bitch!”

“Come on. Stop being such a pussy. I didn’t do anything to hurt you.”

i didn’t even bother saying anything. I brushed him out the way as we made it to my room and locked myself in the bathroom, not bothering to say a word to him.

“Come on Tim. Don’t do this tonight. I’m sorry okay? I just can’t help it. You know what would happen if we got caught.”

I stared at myself long and hard in the mirror. You knowing the saying ‘reflecting’? Charming right? I was ‘reflecting’ in front of a mirror. Talk about a homonym. I really couldn’t see what I saw in him anymore. I didn’t even want to look at him. So I decided.

As soon as I opened the bathroom door, he shoved me along back inside and started kissing me. I shoved him off.

“I’m really pissed at you. Leave me alone tonight.”

“Don’t say that baby. Just let me show you how much you love me.”

“You don’t fucking love me. You just love having me. Now get the fuck off me.”

There was that look again. He was terrified, as if he was greeted with a sign of guilt. I don’t think he ever owned up to guilt once in his life. But it didn’t matter to me as long as he left me alone. I stripped my clothes and headed off to bed. He did the same and tried to snuggle next to me.

“I said to leave me alone.”

“Can we talk?”

“No. I tried to talk to you about it, but you don’t listen. You just do what you want.”

“I’m sorry Tim.”

“No you’re not. Now just go to sleep. I’m done talking to you.”

He climbed atop of me and jerked me face towards his.

“Can you just look at me?”

I kept my eyes shut and didn’t say a word.

He sighed and took my glasses off for me. Surprisingly, he climbed off me and slid back underneath the covers. 

“I know you hate me Tim. I don’t-”

“I don’t hate you. I just hate how you treat me. But…I won’t lie to you. I’m beginning to hate you for it.”

He nodded and threw his head against the pillow. At first, he was distraught as hell. It seemed like the world was crashing around him, waiting for him to burn along with it. Then he started to snicker as he bravely looked toward the ceiling. Again, he didn’t turn to me.

“Did I ever tell you why I started wearing my leather jacket?”

“No, but I can fucking guess.”

“Oh? You can fucking guess? Well, try me.”

I sighed.

“It’s probably another one of your daddy-issue stories.”

He laughed.

“Well, you’re half right. Yes, I did start wearing it because of my Dad. He always wanted me to dress appropriately. Especially on Sundays. I did at first until I met a girl.”

I turned to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Relax Timmy. I’m fucking gay alright? It’s not like she was my girlfriend or anything. She was actually the first person that knew I was. And she hated church too. God, she couldn’t stand it. So me and her would sneak out during mass and smoke weed behind the church, listening to Rubber Soul on her father’s walkman. God, it was great.”

“What’s this have to do with your leather jacket?”

“I’m getting to that. Gosh, you always rush to the point.”

“And you always fucking talk.”

“Anyway,” he continued, stretching the syllables out, “one day we overstayed our welcome and we thought we were gonna get caught by our parents smoking in the back. So we hopped the fence and ran to a nearby clothing store. Us being dumb and stupid, we thought we could get away with it if we changed our appearance so that they couldn’t recognize us.”

He laughed a little harder than I thought. It made the night seem a little warmer.

“Stupid right? So we’re looking around the store and she picks up that same leather jacket I always wear and says ‘this suits you better than the suit. A real boy. Wear that. Don’t worry I got the money.’ Those exact words. She paid for it and I wore it every single day since. My father fucking hated it of course. He kept throwing it out in the trash and I of course kept fetching it out and having Mom wash it. So he gave up on me getting rid of it. He just made a habit of belittling me every day I wore it.”

“That’s a nice story and all, but what does it-?”

“So I kept wearing it everyday. And one day, the girl stops coming to church. We were close friends. And I hadn’t seen her for like a week. She stopped answering my calls. So I asked her parents where she was that day. And…they told me she was in rehab. She had been smoking weed for so long…but she moved on up to heroine. God knows how she got her hands on it. And…and she wasn’t the same. I asked her parents for permission to go and see her. They were reluctant to let ‘me’ to go see, but since they knew my family well enough, they let me. And when I saw her…she just…she just remembered the coat. Just the leather coat. Nothing else. She didn’t remember me! Nothing! Just the time we got the coat! Nothing else! She didn’t even remember my name. She kept calling me Steven. As if that’s anywhere close to my name. And…and I haven’t seen her for two years now. And…from what I heard from her parents…she’s still not doing well. So…so I wear that jacket everyday in hopes that she’ll remember me one day.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I want you to know that because the last time I stopped seeing her…was…was the day I met you. You changed my life Tim. I was ready to die. I wanted to kill myself. I thought nobody would love me for who I am. Everyone we know despise gay people, and she was the only besides you who accepted me for who I am. And…and…I don’t know what i’m trying to say. I just need you to know that I’m weak. I’m afraid. And when I do that stuff…I don’t mean it. I just don’t want anyone to get in the way of us being together so I immediately do what I can to hide my feelings for you from everyone so they won’t know the truth. And I don’t know…the only way I can seem to do that is by hurting you. And I don’t want to hurt you. I’m…I’m sorry.”

I have a conscience. It told me that everything wasn’t lost. That he was there behind the curtains he always threw over my face. But I knew we weren’t going to work out. So I had to betray him. More importantly, I had to betray myself.

“I’m sorry too. But honestly…what we have isn’t healthy, For either one of us. I have to be the mature one here and…end this. We can still be friends and all, but-”

“What? Seriously? I pour my heart out to you and you stomp all over it? What the hell Tim? You want to get rid of me that easily?”

“No! But you know as well as I do that we can’t keep up like this! What’s the point of being together if we’re hurting one another trying to hide it?”

“I’m not hurt by it!”

“And that’s precisely the problem! You don’t care enough about how I feel! This has to end! It’s over between us! I’ll…I’ll let you stay the night since it’s late…but…but we have to stop this.”

“I don’t want to end us! I won’t!”

“It’s not up to you alone to decide that! You don’t understand what a relationship is. You…I can’t do this anymore.”

“Don’t give up on us Tim! Please! I need you! I love you!”

“Stop…stop-stop making this harder than it has to be…”

We’re both on the verge of tears at this point. He was ready to collapse. Sure enough he didn’t. He slipped on his clothes without another word and left my room. We didn’t even say a word to one another. As far as I know, I cried myself to sleep that night alone in the warmth that he left. All I knew was that he was out the door and out my embrace. He didn’t seem to want me.

For the first month, we hadn’t spoke. He didn’t even pretend to bully me. He just kept quiet and muffled around with his goons. But we ended up bumping into each other in a restroom. Awkwardly. I tried to brush it off, but he wouldn’t let me. He took my hand forcefully.

“Look, I know we left things the way we did and…I can’t ignore you anymore. I can’t. I need you Tim.”

He began to grasp the back of my head and cling me closer to him. Greedily.

“Quit it. We’re through. Don’t try to weasel back on to me after you quit talking to me. We left things the way we did and it’s for the best.”

“No it isn’t.”

He let go of me and locked the restroom door.

“We’re not leaving until we settle this.”

I tried to walk around him. I really didn’t want a fight. But he latched his arms around the stall and the sink. He wasn’t willing to let me pass without a fight.

“I don’t want to do this.”

“Well, too bad because we need to work this out. We are meant to be together Tim. Just me and you. No one else. The world can screw itself over, but us. We have to make it.”

“You’re right. Half right. We have to make it, but not together. We need to make it our separate ways. I still love you, but not like that. I care about you. And I will always be your friend. But nothing more. Okay? Let’s just-”

He pressed me lightly against the sink countertop and began rubbing his hands over me. I shoved him off and tried to unlock the door. That’s when he wrestled me again against the sink and tried to kiss me. I had enough of it. I freed my wrist from his grasp and swung across his face as hard as I could and then kicked him to the floor. I saw the light trail of blood follow after. I looked in horror at what I had done. I could barely talk straight.

“I’m-I have to go. Just-leave. Leave me alone.”

I left the restroom and ran out of the building, hoping that was the last I would see of him. But no. He did what I expected him to do. He stalked me. Called my house repeatedly. He even went back to doing what he did to me in the restroom again. I hated him again and again. I didn’t even want to bother my parents about it. So I confronted him for what I mandated to be my last time. God had other plans I suppose.

So I told him to meet me at the school library. We had a lot of memories there…and this was to be the last we shared.

“Look, I’m only meeting you here to cut this shit out. You are fucking harassing me, you know that? I could have a restraining order put out on you, but I don’t want to do that to you. Just stop this shit okay? And then maybe we can be friends at the very least. But if you don’t stop, I’ll call the cops. Okay?”

He nodded at first, but then uncharacteristically got furious. Never had I seen him so mad before.

“I’m done with you too. I’m such an idiot. I wasted my time chasing after you, thinking you cared about me. You clearly don’t.”

“I-”

He shoved his shoulder into mine and walked away, fixing his leather jacket as he did. I saw him disappear behind a bookshelf. I was fine with it all. Not really, but I was in acceptance. I’d rather live in purgatory than hell. He put me through hell each day. And I was happy to exist clear of an overbearing hostility. I was foolish to think it could end easy.

After I had left the library building, I again took the seldom undertone of the night and proceeded home to my dorm by lonesome. Until I wasn’t alone. I was soon greeted by his goons. Oddly enough, it was just his goons. They soon surrounded me.

“We heard you’re gay. You suck dick huh? You filthy piece shit? You like dick huh? Why don’t you get on the floor and look at ours?”

A harder pain this time struck the back of my head as I felt a series of knuckles cave into the back of my skull. I collapsed to the floor instantly. I then felt fingers pull me by the hair and drape my head up against one of his goon’s belt buckle. My head dangled there, with the smell of sweat drowning my nostrils.

“I bet you want what’s under there huh?” one of them said. It wasn’t long my head was there. Soon it was in the pavement. The one holding my head drove it down toward to ground and slammed my face so hard into it that it fracture my two front teeth. I shrieked in pain and was silenced as kicks repeated drove into diaphragm and my lungs. I could barely breathe. Most of the air was mixed with my blood. Then I heard his voice come behind my ear.

“The ground suits you faggot.”

I knew it was him. I saw the trail of their feet. The feet disappeared into the night. Next was the hospital I woke up in. So many bandages wrapped up my face and gauges in my mouth that all I could taste was cotton and dried blood. I turned to the left of me and saw my parents. I turned to the right and saw a few nurses and a doctor of sorts. All I could see was “sorts.” Not much mattered. I barely write this incoherent inconsistency in regards to the therapeutic instruction by the medical staff that said my trauma could be repressed if I kept a journal. Easy enough, this was the beginning. I have a few days longer to stay here until modern medicine deems me healthy. I won’t be healed until I’m rid of him. The question is when I will be. I will suffer more to find out. I’ll see if it ends in more blood. In truth, I was expecting to be mad at him after the end of this. 

I’m only mad at myself.


© Copyright 2018 LeoHarp. All rights reserved.

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