Salt on the River

"I have no right to say or do anything that diminishes a man in his own eyes. What matters is not what I think of him but what he thinks of himself. Hurting a man in his dignity is a crime." ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry 

       Only after the fact did someone tell me to know my self worth. Of course, that stopped me in my tracks as I realized that my self worth had been taken away from me long before the faceless man could whisper that in my ear. When I think about it, I had self respect before anything happened but now I question every decision and die a little inside whenever my lover looks me in the eye. I feel like someone has physically branded the word "cheater" onto my skin. Sometimes I feel the word burning on my heart, sometimes on my lips and sometimes on my lower back. It's like a scar or a bad tattoo- something that you did once in your life and you wish you could be rid of it. But it's still there. It's not like I wanted to. I just caved into the pressure and the constant pushing for me to go against my morals. 

He was my ex-boyfriend's friend and I had been at many parties with him where my light-weight date would drop early and the rest of us played games like strip-pool. Even back then, I could feel his eyes burning on my skin. Even back then, he was pushing me to go further than I wanted. But my god did I want to kiss him. Maybe it was his daring blue eyes or the way he carried himself but I had these sinful thoughts telling me that he must have been good. 

But then summer was over and I was going to college, away from the daring blue eyes and my now ex-boyfriend. I started school and started a new life with new friends and a new lover. And everything was fine. I had no temptation, nothing blatantly staring me in the face daring me to reach outside my morals. 

  Then it was Thanksgiving break and I was being forced to make the two and a half hour drive home. On the way, my phone buzzed, and then again fifteen minutes later. I pulled off onto a rest area to use the facilities and to check my phone. One was a text from my old boyfriend who needed help writing a paper. The other was a text from Blue Eyes asking if and when I was home and would I like to get together. My heart jumped into my throat even though I know it shouldn't have. I had a happy life at school with a man who made me happy, in and out of the bedroom, which was a luxury I hadn't had the fortune of ever having before. I replied to my ex first, saying I would gladly help him write a paper and then replied simply to Blue Eyes that I would be home in the evening. 

I returned home and settled in, enjoying my father's home cooked meals that were gourmet even before having been forced to eat the slop of the school's cafeteria. I video chatted with my boyfriend that night and got to meet his mom for the first time. He had such a wonderful family and everyone seemed so loving. I realized that I had found someone with whom I could see a long future. After hanging up, my phone buzzed again, this time my ex asking if I could come over Friday morning. I agreed and then went to bed. 

Thanksgiving came and went and the craziness of my Step-Mother's Irish family seemed tolerable this year, or maybe I was just becoming accustomed. Friday morning I went over my ex's house to help him with his paper. After a few hours of slow progression, namely due to his parent's fighting or his mother interrupting us every five minutes, we decided to work over my house. My parents weren't home and my ex sat at my desk while I unpacked my summery clothes and packed the winter ones to bring back to school. He finished within the hour and we laid on my bed. I showed him a new skill I'd learned while at school- the epitome of nerdiness- the rubix cube. He was impressed but then he rolled over and looked me straight in the eye. "So, do you wanna have sex?" he asked.

This question of course came about two hours after me telling him that I was in a relationship so thankfully, he wasn't all too dejected when I raised my eyebrows and said no. But we did however go to the mall. We met up with some of his friends and to be frank, I wasn't having that great of a time due to the fact that the boys were all trying to pick up girls. Blue Eyes was there trying hard to get girls' numbers. Here's a tip: Black Friday is a bad time to pick up girls at a mall.

My ex had to leave early after receiving a call from his mother but Blue Eyes offered to drive me home. I knew this was a bad idea but agreed to it anyway. Too often at parties had my tongue slipped and I'd hinted to how badly I wanted to be with Blue Eyes. And he knew this. 

I clung to the door handle as Blue Eyes sped wildly down the highway. It was close to eleven in the evening now and I worried about the police but Blue Eyes had other thoughts on his mind. He turned to me and asked, "Ever given road- head before?" 

My jaw dropped and I answered with an appalled "No, I like living, thank you."

"I know you like me," he said after a moment. "Don't even try to deny it." And then his hand was on my thigh and my heart was beating a mile a minute. "I know you've thought about me."

I didn't say a word and I nervously pushed his hand off of my leg.

Blue Eyes laughed and put his hand back on the steering wheel. "Remember that one time," he started, "when we were in the basement playing strip pool?"

"Yeah," I responded quietly, now regretting that poorly made decision.

"God, when you took your shirt off, all I could do was stare at you."

I could feel my face burning. "Yeah, well I still played better than the rest of you," I joked nervously.

"I wish you sucked more, then you would have lost your shorts," he said, his hand now back on my thigh.

"Yeah, well I had to maintain some of my dignity."

"C'mon," he said, "You're hot."

"Yeah, not really," I muttered. "Besides, I had a thong on and I was not taking off my shorts with only that underneath." Immediately I regretted saying that because Blue Eyes' hand slid up my thigh.

"What are you wearing right now?"

"Wouldn't you like to now," I said sarcastically.

"I would," he said, then he took his hand from my leg and flicked on his turn signal. "You want to go home just yet or would you rather chill for a bit?" he asked, his voice losing the sexual tension that had been there not moments before. Maybe it was all in my head?

"I could chill for a bit," I said hesitantly. 

"Cool," Blue Eyes said driving past the entrance to my neighborhood and down the road. He went to pull into a parking lot and moved to park under a streetlight.

"Cause this isn't sketchy and obvious," I said to him.

"You have a better idea? We can't hang at my place."

"The old Sam's Club has been empty for a while and I've parked in the back lot sometimes," the words spilled from my mouth and my stomach dropped. 

"Well, isn't someone a dirty girl," Blue Eyes joked, making me wish I had the courage to ask him to just take me home. But soon we were driving back down the highway, then were parked behind the building and I wanted to disappear. 

Blue Eyes and I talked for a few minutes before things got heavy again and his hand was on my thigh once more. "I want to kiss you right now," he said. Before I could respond, his hand had taken my chin and he was kissing me. My right hand was still gripping the car's door handle and my knuckles were turning white. It wasn't a sweet kiss, it was aggressive and demanding and I didn't know what to do. His hand slid up my leg and I pulled my face away from his and tried to pull back.

"I can't," I told him.

"Why not?"

I sat for a moment before saying, "Morals."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't just go around with guys in their cars," I said.

"We don't have to have sex," he said. "I was talking with your ex earlier and he was saying you give pretty good head."

"I can't," I said again.

"C'mon," he pushed, sliding his hand from my thigh, under my shirt and up my chest. 

I tried to pull away again and insist, "I really can't."

Blue Eyes let go and opened his door and got out. He opened the back door and sat down in the back seat. "C'mon," he said, patting the seat next to him.

  I looked at him for a moment, and he did not look ready to move from where he was to drive me home. He patted the seat next to him again and I gave in. I got out and sat next to him, as close to the door as I could.

The gap between us closed quickly as he moved on top of me and starting kissing me again.

"I can't," I said for the fourth time, trying to get out from underneath him.

But he didn't stop. Soon, I was shirtless and he was undoing his pants. "I want to know if he was right about you giving good head," Blue Eyes said to me.

"Look, I really can't. This is a bad idea."

"It was a bad idea suggesting to park back here," he said, half joking but there was a twinge of a threat in his voice.

"I'm really not that good at it," I said, trying to dissuade him.

"Then use your hand."

I sat for a moment, my heart was pounding and all I wanted to do was run away. But I couldn't cross the highway to walk home and I had no one to call- my parents were asleep by now. I slowly reached over, obliging, hoping it would be over soon enough.

After a moment, Blue Eyes said, "You're going to have to spit."

"I don't spit," I said. "It's gross."

"Well it sucks when it's dry. Just spit"

"I don't spit," I repeated.

"Well then, do something."

And then I caved.

As I had hoped, it was over quickly. I didn't let him come in my mouth but it got all over my hand instead. All I wanted to do was to get home and wash my hands and then wash my mouth out. He drove me home then and as soon as the door shut behind me, I burst into tears.

I didn't see him again during that break and I was more than glad. I felt guilty as hell and whenever I looked at my boyfriend, my stomach knotted and I wondered whether to tell him or not.

I eventually decided not to tell him. It wasn't like it would ever happen again anyway and I didn't want to hurt him or put doubts in his mind. He was protective enough as it was.

Then for a while, I was okay. The semester ended and I received and overall 3.75 GPA. My parents were so proud of me. Then Christmas came and my sister came to my dad's. After my parents split, things stopped working between my mother and I, but that is a whole other story. I lost my sister and brother to the fight I had with my mother and this was the first Christmas I would be seeing my sister in four years. Everything was wonderful. I got a keyboard that I could take to school so I could play piano while away. My boyfriend and I were video chatting almost every evening while playing online video games together. 

A few days after New Year's, I was on my way to bed and had just laid down when my phone buzzed. I checked it, hoping it was my boyfriend but it was Blue Eyes again. He wanted to know if I was home on break. I told him yes but that was all. Then he wanted to hang out. He said he needed to talk to me about something.

I didn't want to meet him but he was insisting. So I put on my clothes and sneaked out the door. I hopped in my car and went to pick him up.

"So I was on Facebook the other day and it turns out someone has had a boyfriend since the beginning of October," he said after I picked him up.

"I thought that was common knowledge," I said. "It was on Facebook."

"Well I think you owe me now," he said. "Wouldn't want anyone finding out about anything."

And then we were parked behind the building again. Only this time, I was shirtless in the winter air, being pushed against my car.

"I'm cold," I complained. Blue Eyes' hands were freezing against my bare chest.

Blue Eyes looked down at my breasts and said, "I guess you are."

Then we were in my back seat. He was taking off my pants and then undid his. "Hop on," he said.

"I can't," I said.

"Why not?"

"Morals," I said, feeling this was the exact argument that got me nowhere in November.

"Shut-up," he said. "Hop on."

"I'm really no good on top," I said, pulling my bare legs into my bare chest.

"You'll be fine, just hop on."

"Really," I begged, "I'm not good at it.

"Fine," he said, climbing on top of me. But my car's backseat was small and he couldn't maintain his balance. He sat back and said, "Why won't you just ride me?"

"Because I'm really no good," I told him. I began redressing and he sighed, giving up and putting on his clothes.

I drove him home and then went back to my house. As soon as I laid back down in bed, I began to cry again.

I didn't see him again on that break either. I went back to school, started new classes and was having a great time. I was enjoying my boyfriend so much. He was so kind to me and always made sure I finished before he did. He would bring me food in the cafeteria and would hold me when I cried. I had never had such a loving boyfriend before and it killed me whenever the past un-buried itself. I was still trying to forget when my phone buzzed again.

"When are you coming home?" The text from Blue Eyes read.

"Not until spring break." I answered.

"You still owe me for not telling me you have a boyfriend."

I didn't respond to that text, so he texted again. "Send me a pic."

I thought for a moment how I could nicely tell him to fuck-off and then sent him a picture of my middle finger.

"Not what I meant," he responded. "You don't want your boyfriend finding out, do you?"

So I did what he asked. Granted, it was kind of amusing taking pictures of myself. I hated their purpose but I felt kind of sexy. I called my boyfriend down when I was finished and we went to bed together.

He couldn't stay afterwards because he still had work but that was okay. I sent Blue Eyes the pictures and didn't hear from him for a while.

A few weeks later, he asked for more. I sent him others from the gallery I took the first time. Then he started requesting types of pictures. I told him I had repaid whatever debt he thought I owed and Blue Eyes dropped the subject. I didn't see him over Spring Break. I didn't even see him for a few weeks after the semester ended. It was over. I could breathe a sigh of relief and just enjoy my boyfriend's company. 

  Then my boyfriend told me he couldn't come back to school in the fall and my heart broke in two. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle a long distance relationship. I looked back at what had happened with Blue Eyes and I knew it would happen again with someone else. After all, I thought I was a horrible person. I was a cheater and what if something happened at school and I did it again? I was sad at first, then I was angry. How could my boyfriend just not come back? We would argue on the phone for hours on ways for him to be able to come back but eventually he just withdrew and joined community college. I was upset, but I told him I would try to make it work.

Then wouldn't you know it, Blue Eyes texted me again. He asked how things were with my boyfriend and in a fit of rage I said "Horrible, I don't even care anymore." I pressed send before I even thought about what I was saying.

And then it started again.

Blue Eyes would text me, wanting to hang out and I tried to make excuses. One time, he just needed a ride home from work and I gave it to him, trying to be kind, hoping that we could just be friends. While on the drive, we talked about music and life and were friendly to each other. Nothing sexual came up at all and I thought maybe he was okay just being friends. A few weeks later, he texted me again, wanting to hang out. I agreed, hoping that we would just talk like we had in the car.

It was late at night and we went down to the Delaware River and sat on the banks looking over to Pennsylvania. We talked for a bit before he leaned on top of me and kissed me.

  "Look, I'm really sorry," I said. "I can't."

"You did before."

"But I can't now."

And he pushed for me to go down on him for a good ten minutes until I claimed the tide was coming in and that we should move. He wanted me to park behind the building again but I drove him home instead.

Then, foolishly, when he texted me again a few weeks later, I agreed to go back out with him. I just didn't learn my lesson. After he picked me up, he starting driving down the highway. We drove past the Old Sam's club. Blue Eyes kept looking at his phone while driving and I clung tight to the door handle. He wasn't really talking to me and him looking at his phone terrified me because it wasn't like he was the best driver to begin with.

We were back on the river again but this time he was smart enough to find an area where the tide couldn't reach us if it came in.

And then he pushed.

And he pushed at me.

He started kissing me and took my shirt off and I thought to myself, "This will never be over. Maybe if I give him what he wants for a change, he will drop it." Because that's what worked the first time. I had sent him pictures as a "repayment of his" stupid idea of "debt" and he had backed off for a while. Maybe it would work this time too.

So I caved in.

I was on my knees, he was pulling my hair, muttering "Oh God," and the only thing I was thinking was how much I hoped he would come on the ground instead of in my mouth. 

But he didn't.

I pulled away and used my hand as his salt began to mix into the dirt and sand of the river bank. And then he pulled up his pants, took out his phone and started texting.

All I could think was "He just got a blow job and he is texting. TEXTING. He is a fucking asshole." 

What drew me to him in the first place was the attention he gave me, but now I realized he just wanted someone to give him what he wants. I gave him the leverage to do that. I gave him my self worth. I gave him an easy target. And he branded me a cheater.

Now I'm sitting typing this while the word cheater is burning into my flesh. If he texts me again? I'll tell him how much of an ass he is. I will tell him he is a lousy kisser, and it wouldn't be a lie cause that boy was all teeth. I will tell him he has a small dick, which wouldn't be a lie either. I will tell him he is a lousy lay- anything so I never have to put him in my mouth again. I don't want to ever have to taste his salt again. I want it to wash into the river and go out to sea because I am not coming home for breaks again after this summer. I am going to find an apartment to lease for next summer. If he tells my boyfriend? Then que sera, sera. It's not like I have the confidence to be in a relationship anymore anyway.

I let Blue Eyes take one of the most important things from me. He took my confidence. He took my self worth. All because one night I played strip pool. All because I couldn't say no. All because I guess I'm a sucker for pretty eyes. I'm sitting, typing this and realizing I can never go back. I can never take back what I did.

Then one night I'm playing a video game online, feeling lonely because my boyfriend hadn't called. I was talking to a guy out in Colorado and he asked if he could do anything to help me. I said, "Keep me online so I don't go call someone." 

He didn't understand what I meant so I told him about how I had cheated and was thinking of calling Blue Eyes because I was so damn lonely.

And he said, "Know your self worth, girlie. You're beautiful."

But my self worth was gone and that girl in the mirror had an ugly scar across her past that she would never be rid of. 

Never let anyone take away your self worth. Stick to your morals, even if it means losing someone you counted as a friend. If they don't want to stand by you, then they're a lousy friend to begin with. Never give someone power over you because all too often will they abuse it. There is so much in life that if you give away who you are, you will never be able to enjoy life's treasures again. Keep that in mind, always.

~Elana Juli Royson 7-14-13

Dear James,

Because of everything, I understand why you haven't spoken to me in four years. I don't blame you but I wish you would change your mind. There is so much that I wish I could teach you about life and so much I'm missing out on in your life. I remember Melissa and I would come home from school and teach you math. You learned multiplication by age six and had basic algebra mastered by age nine. You are our little genius brother and I miss you.

Today, I would skip the math- you probably know more than I do by now anyway. I've been told you sit at the piano and play sometimes. I always wanted to give you lessons but you never sat still long enough. I still want to teach you because then all three of us would be able to play. I'm so proud of you that you joined marching band and are good at it. I wish I could have stayed with it and I always regret giving up color guard.

I'm also told you still don't have a girlfriend- well there's stuff to learn there too, girlfriend or not. I think the biggest lesson is to not treat your girl like an object. Both girls and guys fall guilty of this, sometimes I do too but I know how much it hurts. She doesn't have to be with you so make sure you let her know how much you care that she is in your life. I know our parents didn't always set the best example. I think no matter who your parents are, it is always good to have another stable couple to look to when it comes to relationships. Sometimes you overlook the bad habits of your parents but those habits manage to come out in your own relationships. By looking to another couple as well, you learn that there is more than one way to do things.

I know you are still in high school but a lesson in life is to take risks. They don't always have to be life changing but sometimes it is good to change things up. I think it's safe to say my biggest risk was leaving home and moving in with dad. I'd never tell you to leave home, unless it's to go to college. Going away for school has been one of the best things I have ever done. Sure, it was scary but I've met so many people from different places with different opinions. If you don't ever leave your hometown for an extended period of time, you miss out on so much of life that is out there. So go away for school. Get out of New Jersey- you can always come home. Learn what others have to say- the worst it can do is make you a better person.

The biggest thing I have to tell you is to stay innocent. Stay young- don't grow up too fast. I can't tell you how frustrated I am with dad harping on me to get a job and how I'm starting to realize being an adult sucks. I miss nap time, not having to study because high school was so easy, having someone else make sure that I am fed everyday, someone else paying for the roof over my head, having someone else buying clothes. When you get older, it is all on you and you don't realize just how much it is until you're an adult. So stay young. I know it's not something that you can control but enjoy it while you can. Go out, be a kid. When you get older and start gaining new perspectives, I hope you give me a call. I will keep my phone on and my heart open. Don't ever feel abandoned. I love you little brother.

Forever.

The Girl with the Auburn Waves

Locks of love for kids who have cancer- there is a little girl out there wearing my hair. Starting when I was five, I cut of ten inches every two years. Every time I cut off another ten inches, my life changed. I lost a piece of my identity- that girl with the auburn waves. My fingers would grope for it and there would be too much shampoo in my palm. I lost a piece of myself and held a sea of reality in my hands, watching it drip through my fingers.

She pulled a chunk of it out- my mother. I was fifteen and we were fighting. I hadn't eaten in two days. She had locked me in my room and hit me. We hurt each other that night and when she kicked me onto the front step, a chunk of my hair was left in that house. I haven't seen her since.

I moved to college and got bangs. They hang in my face acting as blinders to things I don't really care about. My hair is always in my face and I have to donate my time to pushing it away, trying to keep it out of my eyes. It is my ever present reminder that life changes. You lose things, you leave things and you wish you could take it all back. I want to back to the day with my full head of hair and stop that five year old girl from giving it up, even though it's selfish to want to hold onto your childhood when a sick little girl has just lost hers.

This was an assignment for my creative writing class where we had to write about three incidents involving hair that could tell a story.

Baby Brother

I wish I was there for you

When it all went sour

And four years later

I regret that final hour

Where fists were thrown

And trust was blown

In the fight for power

I wish I’d seen you graduate

And walk with all your friends

Instead I was home alone

Struggling with my pens

To find the words

You should have heard

When it all neared the end

I wish I could have grieved

But there was never time

Life keeps pressing on

And there are mountains to climb

But despite my unshed tears

And the ever passing years

Memories will always be mine

I remember taking care

Of that boy who wouldn’t speak

Translating his signs

Wrapped in such mystique

That no one understood

But sis and I would

Where mom and dad fell weak.

I remember teaching you

So you’d be top of your class

Your teacher were impressed

Of how quickly you surpassed

Your rather average peers,

Even though they jeered

And gave you lots of sass.

You were my baby brother

Always that infant wrapped in blue

I wish that in my future

You’d be standing with me too

But you can’t undo the past

And life goes by so fast

And baby brother- I miss you.

4-1-13

I love you James, and I miss you everyday <3

Property of C. B. Conrad

To love abundantly is to live abundantly, and to love forever is to live forever.

~Henry Drummond

The first thing I wanted that morning was to drive. I can't express enough the freedom that came with driving. I was young and having the ability to just leave home left me with the most amazing feeling of exuberance. I didn't know where I would go or that I would end up where I did. There were just keys and my car with a full tank. I could go three hundred miles before needing to refuel. Highway driving, I could be anywhere in six hours.

My grandmother used to have a house in North Carolina. With her passing away the week before, the house was empty. No one had gone there yet to clean it out after my father inherited it. The keys were sitting on the counter. At six in the morning, the day was ahead of me.

When I got out of the car, standing before me was a the most magnificent home I could have ever imagined my grandmother to live in. With two sun rooms on either side of the house, two chimneys, an enormous porch and balconies on the second and third floor, the house was more of a mansion than anything. I had never been to her house before. When I opened the old door, the inside was furnished with antiques. Tan draperies hung from the windows blocking out the early afternoon sun.

There was a parlor which I found had one of the fireplaces. Twelve chairs with hand stitched cushions surround three tables. Grandmother had entertained here, I had to assume. Attached to the parlor was a door leading to the kitchen. The window stretched across almost the entire back wall. I leaned against the counter to look into the back yard. A garden full of flowers and intertwining pathways interrupted by fountains where water sat in my grandmother's absence was the view that my grandmother enjoyed while washing dishes. I could never imagine leaving this house.

I was barely at the house for twenty minutes before the cellphone in my bag rang. I dug through the clothes that I had stuffed into the bag for the ringing nuisance that was undoubtedly my father. At eighteen, I still wasn't free. He wondered where I was, when I was coming home, the funeral was tonight. I couldn't go. I wouldn't go. I refused to say goodbye to the woman who had knitted me so many blankets, told me thousands of bedtime stories when my father was away on business, who was the only maternal figure I had ever grown up with.

When I hung up the phone, I ventured upstairs to encounter the library, my grandmother's bedroom and a room with pink floral wallpaper that belonged to my aunt who passed away at age eleven. I imagined that my mother wept in here the first time she came over met my father's mother. I've been told my mother's sentimentality was something to be marveled, that she was a woman who could understand even the most painful of situations. Father says that she used to say "There is no difference in human pain. We all have the same emotions and we all have the capacity for complete compassion. Those who cannot fathom compassion are either ignorant or idiots." Had I known my mother, she would have been so much more than just my mother, she would have been my best friend.

As I stood in my aunt's old bedroom, a cough from behind me startled me into whipping around. A twenty-something boy stood in the doorway of my aunt's bedroom. The caretaker of the house, I assumed because my grandmother could not keep up with this large house at her old age. He stared at me, expecting an explanation as to my sudden appearance in this house and I was stunned into silence.


(to be continued)

Let's be Honest...

"It is discouraging how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit."
~Noel Coward 

The thought of being brutally honest about oneself terrifies most people, myself included. Sure, we can be brutally honest when we are talking about someone else, but ourselves?

Well, honesty is the best policy right? So let me start off by being brutally honest about myself. I suck at blogging. I don't know what it is about putting words in a text box and putting them on some URL that just won't click with me. So this is my stab at a blog that I actually intend to follow through with. Pardon me if it is awful at first, I'm hoping that this is something that I will get the hang of eventually.

I am a writer. I mean obviously, I am writing a blog. However my medium is paper and pencil and usually the content is fiction (so you can see where I might run into some problems here). I've been writing since the fifth grade and I am currently at school studying Professional Writing. It is my dream to have one of my novels published and to work in a publishing/editing company.

I am currently working on two major projects. One is my first serious novel which is currently in the editing/revising stage. I am tearing apart everything and rebuilding it to make it better. The other is a screenplay that a group here at school is going to film. Both are fantasy based because to be quite honest, fantasy is easier to write. You can do absolutely anything and aren't bound by the laws of the world in which we live now. In comparison, real life can be kind of boring.

There isn't much else about me that I find interesting but maybe as I progress something might pop up. I can only ask for patience and hope that this gets easier. My name might not be memorable through the blogs but someday it will be right up there with the best.

~EJR