Quantcast
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

College Cut-Up by Carrie Duffy

I was in my sophomore year of college, and I’d never had a boyfriend. Not because I wasn’t interested but because I’d been too busy with my own life to consider being a part of someone else’s. Then one summer evening I received an email from a fellow student named Terry. I didn’t know if Terry was a man or woman, but he/she seemed to share a lot of my interests and said a mutual friend had given him/her my email address. After a few getting-to-know-you missives, Terry requested a picture, so I sent mine off and received what turned out to be “his” in return. Score — he was cute. Boys rarely talked to me, especially cute ones, and I felt a spark of hope that he might be interested. We emailed each other for the next two months before the fall semester started, and we agreed to meet up when we got back to school.

I recognized him waiting for me at our prearranged spot on campus, and my mother took both of us out to dinner. He turned out to be a polite, well-groomed, intelligent young man. Terry and I started spending more time together over the next few weeks, although I was sure it was just friendly. I certainly had a crush, but I was playing it so aloof that I hardly recognized it.

One night I asked him to tell me his biggest, darkest secret (how original, right?), hoping I could suss out whether he was interested in me or not. I got more than I bargained for. Turned out he had suffered from severe depression and a tendency toward self-mutilation for a good portion of his adult life but assured me he had gotten help and was fine now. I had suffered my own bouts of depression and struggled with an eating disorder, so I wasn’t about to pass judgment. That night he asked me if I wanted to start dating, and I said, “Yes.”

I fell in love in a matter of weeks. At least I thought that’s what love felt like. A squirming feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever we were together and even when we weren’t, never wanting to be apart, feeling like I could tell him anything. When the girl I was rooming with moved out, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for Terry to take her room. A month after we started dating, we were talking about getting married after graduation.

The day he moved in, his parents and my mother came to visit us, and we all went out to dinner together. The way Terry’s parents acted and the way he interacted with them — well, it was a little scary. It seemed as if he had never really made the break with them. The day our parents left and it was just him and me, I felt a terrible sinking sensation in my stomach. I was starting to think I had made a mistake.

Over the next month I realized how different Terry and I were. When we were living on opposite sides of the campus and seeing each other after class and on the weekends, it was easy to overlook how emotionally fragile he was. Sometimes the tiniest thing that went wrong would set him off, and he would cry and say, “One day you’re going to get tired of this and find someone better.” I assured him I would not, but even as I said the words, I wondered if he was right.

We clashed over politics, bathroom-cleaning duties, even what shows to watch on television. I had always needed a lot of alone time to maintain my sanity, but Terry wanted to be around me all of the time, and he was brought to tears whenever I told him I needed space. I’m an emotionally reserved person who doesn’t show much affection, and Terry needed constant affirmation.

One evening we went out to dinner with a friend of mine who had been wanting to meet Terry for some time. On the train ride to the restaurant, my friend (who happens to be gay) and I kidded with Terry about his refined grooming practices and called him “metrosexual.” I didn’t know this had offended Terry until 1 a.m. that night when he came to my room with scratches all over his chest where he had cut himself with a pair of scissors. He cried and said I had called him gay, that I wasn’t affectionate enough, and that he thought it would be better if he simply ran away. It took me two hours to convince him that I had said no such thing, that I was still in love with him, and that he would accomplish nothing by leaving school.

After another month of trying to be the girlfriend that he wanted, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I broke up with him. Or at least I tried. I had bought a nonrefundable plane ticket to visit him and his family over Thanksgiving but told him that I wouldn’t be going and that I thought we needed to end the relationship. I knew he would take it hard, but I wasn’t prepared to come home and find him crying in despair on the floor of his bedroom, again with multiple cuts across his chest, the scissors lying on the floor next to him. He wept violently and threw himself about the floor, screaming, “You have to come home with me! You have to!” He curled up like a child, weeping, and I grabbed the scissors and called my mother and then his parents. His father got him to calm down and accept my decision, although I had to spend the next few hours consoling him.

In truth, he simply couldn’t believe that the relationship was over, that we were far too different. He told me that he had changed and begged me for a second chance, and I agreed to give him one. He gave me a beautiful necklace.

It only lasted a couple of weeks longer. I had seen his ugliest side, and I couldn’t forgive it. I told him that I couldn’t see him anymore. He said that I had used him, that people didn’t “just fall out of love.” I assured him that I had. He started crying and ran to his room, slamming the door.

He slammed his door a lot in those first few days, but this time I refused to play his game, to run over and make sure he was okay. I finally recognized that he was emotionally abusive and used his tears as a way of manipulating me.

I had no other place to go and no one to take over my rental agreement, so I stayed one room away from him for the next four months, sick to my stomach and scared that he might do something to harm me.

I saw him on the street a couple of years later; someone was taking a picture of him and a girl. I didn’t feel jealous. In fact, I felt sorry for that girl. I hope her love story with him turned out better than mine.

Tell us the story of your breakup and/or date from hell and we will publish it and pay you ($100 for 500-2000 words).

E-mail story to
[email protected]
Or mail to:
San Diego Reader/Dumped
Box 85803
San Diego, CA 92186

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all

Previous article

Kahlee310’s snitch rapper reactions

“He’d literally do anything for the money or fame”
Next Article

Praga: Italian at a Czech restaurant in Mexico

Not many pedestrians. No mariachis. And definitely no striped zebra-donkeys.

I was in my sophomore year of college, and I’d never had a boyfriend. Not because I wasn’t interested but because I’d been too busy with my own life to consider being a part of someone else’s. Then one summer evening I received an email from a fellow student named Terry. I didn’t know if Terry was a man or woman, but he/she seemed to share a lot of my interests and said a mutual friend had given him/her my email address. After a few getting-to-know-you missives, Terry requested a picture, so I sent mine off and received what turned out to be “his” in return. Score — he was cute. Boys rarely talked to me, especially cute ones, and I felt a spark of hope that he might be interested. We emailed each other for the next two months before the fall semester started, and we agreed to meet up when we got back to school.

I recognized him waiting for me at our prearranged spot on campus, and my mother took both of us out to dinner. He turned out to be a polite, well-groomed, intelligent young man. Terry and I started spending more time together over the next few weeks, although I was sure it was just friendly. I certainly had a crush, but I was playing it so aloof that I hardly recognized it.

One night I asked him to tell me his biggest, darkest secret (how original, right?), hoping I could suss out whether he was interested in me or not. I got more than I bargained for. Turned out he had suffered from severe depression and a tendency toward self-mutilation for a good portion of his adult life but assured me he had gotten help and was fine now. I had suffered my own bouts of depression and struggled with an eating disorder, so I wasn’t about to pass judgment. That night he asked me if I wanted to start dating, and I said, “Yes.”

I fell in love in a matter of weeks. At least I thought that’s what love felt like. A squirming feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever we were together and even when we weren’t, never wanting to be apart, feeling like I could tell him anything. When the girl I was rooming with moved out, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for Terry to take her room. A month after we started dating, we were talking about getting married after graduation.

The day he moved in, his parents and my mother came to visit us, and we all went out to dinner together. The way Terry’s parents acted and the way he interacted with them — well, it was a little scary. It seemed as if he had never really made the break with them. The day our parents left and it was just him and me, I felt a terrible sinking sensation in my stomach. I was starting to think I had made a mistake.

Over the next month I realized how different Terry and I were. When we were living on opposite sides of the campus and seeing each other after class and on the weekends, it was easy to overlook how emotionally fragile he was. Sometimes the tiniest thing that went wrong would set him off, and he would cry and say, “One day you’re going to get tired of this and find someone better.” I assured him I would not, but even as I said the words, I wondered if he was right.

We clashed over politics, bathroom-cleaning duties, even what shows to watch on television. I had always needed a lot of alone time to maintain my sanity, but Terry wanted to be around me all of the time, and he was brought to tears whenever I told him I needed space. I’m an emotionally reserved person who doesn’t show much affection, and Terry needed constant affirmation.

One evening we went out to dinner with a friend of mine who had been wanting to meet Terry for some time. On the train ride to the restaurant, my friend (who happens to be gay) and I kidded with Terry about his refined grooming practices and called him “metrosexual.” I didn’t know this had offended Terry until 1 a.m. that night when he came to my room with scratches all over his chest where he had cut himself with a pair of scissors. He cried and said I had called him gay, that I wasn’t affectionate enough, and that he thought it would be better if he simply ran away. It took me two hours to convince him that I had said no such thing, that I was still in love with him, and that he would accomplish nothing by leaving school.

After another month of trying to be the girlfriend that he wanted, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I broke up with him. Or at least I tried. I had bought a nonrefundable plane ticket to visit him and his family over Thanksgiving but told him that I wouldn’t be going and that I thought we needed to end the relationship. I knew he would take it hard, but I wasn’t prepared to come home and find him crying in despair on the floor of his bedroom, again with multiple cuts across his chest, the scissors lying on the floor next to him. He wept violently and threw himself about the floor, screaming, “You have to come home with me! You have to!” He curled up like a child, weeping, and I grabbed the scissors and called my mother and then his parents. His father got him to calm down and accept my decision, although I had to spend the next few hours consoling him.

In truth, he simply couldn’t believe that the relationship was over, that we were far too different. He told me that he had changed and begged me for a second chance, and I agreed to give him one. He gave me a beautiful necklace.

It only lasted a couple of weeks longer. I had seen his ugliest side, and I couldn’t forgive it. I told him that I couldn’t see him anymore. He said that I had used him, that people didn’t “just fall out of love.” I assured him that I had. He started crying and ran to his room, slamming the door.

He slammed his door a lot in those first few days, but this time I refused to play his game, to run over and make sure he was okay. I finally recognized that he was emotionally abusive and used his tears as a way of manipulating me.

I had no other place to go and no one to take over my rental agreement, so I stayed one room away from him for the next four months, sick to my stomach and scared that he might do something to harm me.

I saw him on the street a couple of years later; someone was taking a picture of him and a girl. I didn’t feel jealous. In fact, I felt sorry for that girl. I hope her love story with him turned out better than mine.

Tell us the story of your breakup and/or date from hell and we will publish it and pay you ($100 for 500-2000 words).

E-mail story to
[email protected]
Or mail to:
San Diego Reader/Dumped
Box 85803
San Diego, CA 92186

Sponsored
Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

San Diego Lotharios rejoice at news of mandatory 10 pm nightlife shutdown

Closed Doors = Closed Deals
Next Article

Two poems by Julia Wehner

A reminder of how richly good it is to feel, and to live
Comments
1

That was me Carrie!!! I'm going to go cut myself now.

Feb. 15, 2008

Sign in to comment

Sign in

Art Reviews — W.S. Di Piero's eye on exhibits Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Best Buys — San Diego shopping Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits City Lights — News and politics Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Famous Former Neighbors — Next-door celebs Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town Here's the Deal — Chad Deal's watering holes Just Announced — The scoop on shows Letters — Our inbox [email protected] — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Of Note — Concert picks Out & About — What's Happening Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Pour Over — Grab a cup Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer News — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Set 'em Up Joe — Bartenders' drink recipes Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Sports — Athletics without gush Street Style — San Diego streets have style Suit Up — Fashion tips for dudes Theater Reviews — Local productions Theater antireviews — Narrow your search Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Waterfront — All things ocean Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close