I didn’t plan to steal anything that day. In fact, I had never stolen anything in my life. OK, that’s not exactly true. I did have a plan. It wasn’t a plan to steal; it was just a plan to get what I needed. Man, nevermind. I didn’t plan to steal anything.
I needed to get to
That’s when I met her. We struck up a conversation on some party line. She lived in
We talked throughout the night, every night. She was desperate for affection and sex and love. I hate to admit it, but I used this to my advantage. Whatever, dude – gotta do what you gotta do. We would talk, I would dangle some sort of compliment, she would eat it up then I wouldn’t call her for days. She would call; she would always call – early morning, late night. I would sit there, listen to her messages then delete it. Her tone went from casual, to frantic, to distraught and then apologetic, like she’d done something. This went on for weeks. By this time, it didn’t matter what she looked like or what I looked like. I had her, man. And I was moving to
Let me say that I am a master of twisting words, manipulating them and, in turn, controlling people. It’s twisted, circular logic. A girl with no self-esteem is very easy to manipulate; especially this girl. I contradict myself, get her all turned around and she ends up agreeing with me, no matter the topic or how strongly she disagrees. She was thrilled with my plan to move to
Over the next year and a half, I was able keep her under control easily. The stern harsh tone worked best on her. She didn’t know how to deal with me being disappointed. She just wanted to please me, man. If I didn’t like the TV program, I would say so and she would apologize. If she liked something, really really liked something, I would dismiss it (and her) as being stupid or not worth my time and she would apologize. I bought her the new Gin Blossoms’ cassette, telling her the band is from
Yeah, sometimes I yelled and threw things. She yelled, too, so that didn’t work for me because I would want to hit her. I would see red and come so damn close to hitting her with my cane. I had to throw shit or hit something else. I broke out a closet door one night; and knocked the bathroom door right off the hinges! Damn, I was pissed. I don’t even remember why, dude.
I complimented her once in a while and crushed her often. It wasn’t too hard to be nice to her, any little thing from me made her happy. She craved physical affection; she ached for it, man. I would touch her then I’d shun her. She would even beg for it – that was a trip. Never has a girl begged for it, man. But, she did. Yeah, she did. She begged. Oh, man – one time, we were making out and her mom called. I told her it was a ‘sign from God’ telling us we should wait til we were married. It was total bullshit! It worked though. That was a good one…
Food was another way to keep her in control. I would buy Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream, telling her “I thought of you today. I love you.” Then, blast her shit for being fat as she ate it. I would read then throw away her mail, I didn’t tell her when family or friends called and I gave her mixed messages – give her food, call her fat; tell her I love her but refuse to touch her or sleep in the same bed. I took her car for my own use, forcing her to carpool or miss work entirely. I used our bank card and money with complete disregard, causing checks to bounce; which resulted in us being kicked out of our apartment. Whatever. This girl was so twisted up!
Damn, this one time…oh, man, this was sad but funny…I bought her an emerald ring for our first Christmas together. She totally loved it. I told her it was an engagement ring until I could get a decent one for her. One night, after late night band practice, I stopped to buy weed. I didn’t have enough cash, but my dude said I could bring the rest in the morning. When I got home, she was asleep of course. I took the ring, hid it in my guitar case. The next morning, before work, she was tearing up the house looking for the ring, but she didn’t tell me that’s what she was looking for. When she was ready to walk out the door, I said “Lemme see your ring, babe.” She stammered and tried to leave. I took on that stern tone of voice. Man, I ripped her up! She was shaking and so upset. I slammed the door on her. A few days later, our roommate showed her the receipt she found in the trash that showed I returned the ring, got my cash back. That was messed up.
So, no, I didn’t plan to steal anything that day; but I did. I broke her down and I stole her soul.