At the Hands of My First Love
by Corrina Salazar
(San Jose, Ca )
I was 15 years old. I joined Ms. Yenters history class late, two weeks into the school year to be exact. The class was assigned seating by alphabetical order. So I sat with the cool guys in the "S" section. This charming boy smiled and introduced himself. Over the next two months, we bonded. On December 7, 2004 we made our relationship official. I was his girl. Ten days later, he lost his virginity to me. We laid there and cried because we didn't know how to handle the feelings that came along with what we just did. From then on, We were inseparable.
On my 16th birthday, he surprised me with a huge life size yoshi birthday card and some flowers. I couldn't help but think "wow so this is love."
Now, at 16 I had a pretty decent body. Not to toot my own horn but I guess you could call me yoncè lol. Ok ok but the booty was there! I slowly started to notice that he would walk behind me in between classes. At first I thought it was cute. Little did I know this was a sign of some sort of insecurity. Anyone who looked in my direction would hear his wrath. I was off limits and he let it be known. I then began to think that I was allowed to have that same control over him. He was a charming guy that got along with all the girls but I would let it be known, he's off limits.
The first time it happened was a horrible day. We drove to Jamba Juice. He went into get our drinks and I noticed his ex crush was the one serving them. They were smiling at eachother and just talking while he waited. I watched from the car. When he sat down in the driver seat I made a smart remark. "Were you just flirting in front of me?!" I was livid. How could he? What we had was real and he was NOT allowed to smile at anyone else. Mind you I was 16 everyone so don't beat me up just yet. No pun intended. He became upset at my remark and I shoved him by the shoulder to let him know how angry I was. He was driving and it caused him to swerve a bit. He looks at me with fire in his eyes and spits in my face. Then two blows. One to my face and one to my head. He pulled off to the side of the road and was yelling. All the while my nose is bleeding. I couldn't handle. I got off the car and ran away. Thank god I was close to home. He just drove off. I can't quite remember the reconciliation but it happened and we made up.
The second time. We were on our way to Sacramento for a few nights with his parents. Little did I know that he fought with them in order for me to come along. He picked me up from my house and as we drove away I realized I forgot my curling iron. I just wanted to look good for him. So I asked him to turn back so I could grab it but he said no. Meanwhile his mom was blowing up his phone because she was waiting on us. This I didn't know until later. I said," but why?! Please can we just go back and get it?! I'll be quick." All of a sudden, a few blows to my head. I would say it was about four or five but who's to know for sure. I was in shock. I still wanted to go with him so I just shut my mouth, we picked up his mom, and drove to Sacramento. In Sacramento, I couldn't stop thinking about what he did to me. As we sat in a park, I lost it. I grabbed my little backpack and started swinging! Screaming and crying. "How could you do that to me?! You piece of shit!" He grabbed me and held me and promised it would never happen again.
It didn't happen for awhile. A long while. I was still madly in love with him. How could I leave after enduring so much. I was his and he was mine.
The third time. He picked me up from work at Eastridge mall. I just bought a new Roxy bag that was cream with red polka dots. It took me two pay checks to save up for it and I was really excited about it. On the way home he told me he couldn't hang out. My excitement turned into disappointment. "Why?" I whined. He got upset and just started screaming so I began to cry. He started screaming telling me to stop but I couldn't. A few blows to the face. My nose was a bloody mess. The blood drops started to form circles just like the ones on my new polka dot bag. I ran from the car and he caught me. He held me and just kept saying sorry. I was terrified. How could the guy that treated me like a princess majority of the time do this to me? What I was I doing to possibly deserve this? I remember running upstairs to the restroom and locking the door. Crying and washing my bag. I hated that polka dot bag after that.
In a sick and twisted way, I can honestly say I enjoyed to good times with him. Eventually, He made his friends a priority and
I would see him less and less. I drove myself insane. Constantly asking me self if he even loves me anymore. My nagging and questioning pushed him further away.
The final incident was on my 18th birthday. My friends and I threw a big party. Pretty epic to say the least. He came through and had the whole crowd sing me happy birthday. I was so embarrassed but he did it out of love for me and that was all that mattered. Eventually he and I took a break from the party and went upstairs to my room. He told me he had to leave early because of whatever reason. I began to beg him to stay. As he went for the door knob and I grabbed him by the shoulder. He turned and lifted me off the ground. My body was slammed into my big queen size bed. Once I hit the mattress, the frame collapsed and the mattress and I were on the floor. No blows. He walked out. A few days later we ended things. It killed me inside. I had stuck around for nothing. There was no possible way he couldn't love me anymore.
He and I remained friends and then some for years after. I tried to move on but I could never fully let him go. I never stopped loving him but deep down I always knew I deserved more. This all happened 8 years ago. Eventually I began to start my life without him. When I became pregnant, apart of me could tell he wanted the baby to be his. He would call me throughout the whole pregnancy and we'd talk for hours. I still loved him but I knew I could never fully be happy with him. I always knew the baby wasn't his. It felt good to entertain the idea...weird I know I know! We haven't spoke since he congratulated me on my son. He moved on and now engaged. Once I heard, I felt weird. Jealousy would be too extreme a word. I got this disgusting thought that I hoped he does to her what he did to me.
Sick I know.
Of course I would never wish that upon anyone. I quickly shook it off. So that's why I wrote this. To release that sick disgusting feeling. Honestly, I hope he's passed that phase. I hope he treats her like any woman should be treated. My past will probably continue to haunt me for the rest of my life. As the years go by, those bad memories of pain have less of an affect on me. I will be honest and say that the things I went through with him physically have carried on into later relationships. I will probably never trust any man the way I trusted him. He didn't deserve it. I appreciate him leaving me. He did me a favor. I no longer think what if we stayed together but Thank God I broke free from the hands of my first love. Unfortunately, I can't lie and say that I hate him. I don't.