What It's Come To

I don’t count this as a relationship, but it’s the one that ruined me for what seems like eternity. He is no longer a part of my life, but recently, on Facebook, some girl posted an all-out smack down on him that has probably wrecked his reputation forever, not that he had one to begin with.

I met Ezra right after getting out of Four Winds, through a friend. He was the sexiest guy I’d ever seen in my life. He played guitar, sang, played drums, and bass. And, he was nineteen. Me, being only sixteen, was still attracted to the older kind of guy. He was going to Adirondack Community College to be a professor of literature. I had always wanted to be an English teacher, so I saw him as my male counterpart. He seemed open and honest, and called me sexy and beautiful and smart. I don’t think I could have found another person so perfect for my little world.

We spoke online for about a week, and decided to meet in person on a Friday night. My mom picked him up on her way home from Saratoga (he was from Schuylerville). He was just like he’d claimed to be (and what my friend had told me, who happened to be the same girl who liked Nate. We had become very close after my break-up with him). He was polite, sweet, and everything I could ever wish for. We hung out in my room, and soon his arm was around me and we were talking about random things like two old friends. I practically begged him to ask me out, so he did. I felt like I’d made the perfect decision.

I had my mom drop me off the following Saturday afternoon. Ezra had promised his mom would be home, so she agreed. She thought he was a charming young man. His house was a little run down, but at that point, I could have cared less if he lived in a hole. He was my new knight in shining armor.

Ezra opened the door with a huge smile on his face. He seemed so happy to see me. He pulled me into a tight embrace. Any doubt about not waiting long enough to date him evaporated into thin air. I followed him into the kitchen, when we grabbed some Rice Chex, and then into the back patio so he could finish his cigarette and coffee. Did I mention that I think smokers are incredibly sexy? I don’t approve of it but God damn! Those wisps of smoke rising into the air as they sit pensively with a cigarette dangling from their fingers are so sexy to me.

A little while later, we went into his room. It was small and messy, with a Cure poster on the opposite wall to where his bed stood. He pulled me into his arms and put on some music for me. Apparently he was obsessed with Japanese music, so he insisted I hear some Plastic Tree. I was pretty impressed, especially when he pulled out his guitar with me still in his arms and began to play along and sing. This day couldn’t get any better.

Soon his thin frame had enveloped me and his lips were viciously covering mine. My moans had filled the room. I was in ecstasy. Then something I hadn’t expected happened. He stood up, dropped his pants, and pushed me back against the pillows. “What are you doing?” I recall saying.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he responded, giving me a weird look.

“I don’t want this yet.”

“Well, they say the best way to learn a person is to sleep with them,” he said reassuringly.

“I still don’t want this yet.” He ignored my protests, and continued with what he was doing.

He forced me harder down on the bed, and without anymore words to me, forced himself into me. I was so shocked I didn’t make a sound. Was this really happening to me? A single tear ran down my face. It went unnoticed.

He was finished almost as soon as it started. “You’re going to want to go to the bathroom to clean up,” he told me firmly. I nodded my head quickly, shaken. “My mom will be home any minute.”

When I came back, he was redressed and listening to his music, like nothing had happened. He grinned at me. “You’re beautiful.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed my temple.

I went home in a trance. The following morning, Ezra called. “I can’t see you anymore. You’re unstable. I mean, you went to Four Winds.” I didn’t know what to say. “I mean, we weren’t dating or anything.”

“Okay?” He hung up the phone.

I ended up going to see Avatar a few weeks later, and that night, I tried to take an entire bottle of Serequel, my dad had jumped on me like a star quarterback, forcing me to choke them back up, and I was rushed the the hospital. On February 21st of 2010, I was returned to Four Winds. I stayed there for a total of a month and a half. Apparently, I didn’t have depression. I was bipolar. The medication they’d given me gave had made my manic episodes even worse, causing me to act Schizophrenic, and therefore, freak out at the bright colors and crazy changes during the movie. They put me on Lithium and an array of other colorful pills. I didn’t think I’d ever be involved with “Ezra the Rapist” again, but I was, two more times.

He called me up a few months later. He was crying. He told me he didn’t know how he could have done something as horrid as what he had done. It was his sexual addiction, he promised. I don’t know why to this day, but I took him back with open arms. Less than two weeks later, in his exact words, he said, “How could I ever be with a psycho? I’ve said this before, but you’re crazy, Laura, and I should never have involved myself with you.” He hung up, and I didn’t hear from him till June, when I took my first set of ACT’s.

The day before my ACT’s, I got a text from Ezra. He was sorry, again. I scoffed it off. For some reason, though, I believed him. He wanted to see me. “I guess I can see you after my ACT’s,” I replied. I was taking them in Saratoga, because Nate and his friends had threatened to kill me for reasons still unknown to me, and I didn’t attend the eleventh grade. I got home tutored.

I had my friend, Dave, pick me up from my house around three. I was very aware that he had a huge crush on me, and would do anything for me. So, naturally, I had him drive all the way to Schuylerville to see Ezra. The second he left, my arms were around him. He carried to his bedroom, ripped off my skirt, and pushed me down. “No,” I said firmly. This time he listened, but he shut down.

We went into the living room and he played video games for hours, ignoring me. “What did I do?”

“What do you think you did?” he said pleasantly.

Minutes later, I remember nearly begging him to fuck me. So he did.

I got a ride home from his mom. She was nice, even if she was a crazy religious fanatic.
I had the chance to see him Monday morning, but Ezra wanted to drop some acid and drink a few gallons of whisky Sunday night, and didn’t want me to see him shit-faced. I tried to give him an ultimatum. He told me to get lost. That, my friends, was Ezra B.