When I was nineteen, I met a young man: William. He was, I believe three years older than me. Up to this point in my life I had made it a habit of studying those around me. I enjoyed the feeling of being "chameleon-like" and how I could slip into different characters and modes to match my settings. Even the way in which I spoke was interchangeable. Doing this was fun for me. The drawback, I suppose, if I had to choose a drawback, would be never really knowing my true self in the sense a reader only truly knows a book in which they have read every word. I often worried that I would be found out for my pretenses but I worried because then it would mess up my ability to slip in and out of any circumstance I chose. For this reason, I was meticulous and calculating in the personas I chose and I was extremely careful to never falter or make a mistake. Of course, there were always people who seemed to see through me during my younger life. My dad, for instance, had, and still has, the uncanny ability to look at me and know if I am being fake or real. For this reason, I can honestly say that my favorite parent is my father. Pretense is not necessary around him because he will simply call me out on it.
So William. Twenty-three and a virgin with gangly limbs and an acne marked face. His skin was pale and his eyes a powdery blue and his hair was nearly white it was so blonde. He gave off the appearance of a young man who was uncertain in his place in the world. I met him when we were both active duty in the Navy and I met him through another man I was already manipulating to believe I was the be all to end all. I took one look at William on that particularly sunny day on the second story balcony of the barracks in which we resided and I knew that he would be fun. He would not be fun in the sense that he had an extremely interesting and charismatic personality but he would be fun in the sense that he would lap up any attention I offered him. And so the game began.
I got to know this young man. My initial instinct had been right. He was insecure about where he stood with people, namely with women. He was extremely close to his family and his grandparents and he had a few very loyal friends. Beyond his close-knit community, people often looked right through him. He was not memorable in any particularly unique way. According to him, when I asked - and he was very eager to have a female show interest in him - he had been ridiculed by peers and teased and isolated much of his life by his peers simply for being unattractive and, in his own words, a bit of a geek. And a bit of a geek he was. He was obsessed with science-fiction and the fantasy realms, particularly dragons. I remember entering his room one afternoon shortly after I had begun playing with him and seeing dragon statues and min figurines everywhere. He was quite proud of them but hesitant to show me as he probably thought I would be yet another person to think oddly of him for his obsession. I could have cared less. He was a pawn and in order for the pawn to follow the Queen the pawn had to trust the Queen. So I squealed in delight and awed with interest over each and every dragon he had. I insisted he tell me about each of them: where he had gotten them, who had given them to him, what his connection to each was and so on and so forth. This was the opening I needed.
After the dragon incident, William began to see me rather adoringly. He realized that I was not going to make fun of his likes and/or dislikes. He came to see that when he wanted to talk I would actually listen. He wanted someone to admire him for him and o I showered him with admiration. I also realized, however, that he was living in a shell. If I wanted him to be truly devoted to me I would have to pull him out of his shell. And so I maintained a level of my normally staggering amount of confidence and I began to infect him with it. There was a party one Friday night and he did not want to go - he was concerned because he had not been invited. Neither had I but this did not concern me in the least. There would be alcohol and plenty of people whose attention I could garner.
I was young and spent nearly five hour every day in the gym and running to make sure I had a fantastically sculpted body. After all we live in an age of sensuality and what better way to draw attention than with the sensuality I had begun physically developing at the age of 9? On went the short, cotton skirt and the clingy tank top and knee high black boots. I showed up at his door and told him he would be my date. One look at me, brimming with confidence in myself and fake adoration for him and thoughts of not attending fled his mind. Throughout the night, I ensure that he was close and the object of my fond, random touches, and sweet half-smiles but all the while I was playing on his insecurities because I was using my charm and charisma and body to pull in every other male there. He was at the center of my attention while at the same remaining distant. I made sure of it.
At the end of the night, poor William, thus far neglected by the opposite sex, felt as if he had found the most amazing woman in the world. He was shy and introverted while I was loud and extroverted but still interested in him. Things continued like this for over a year. Meanwhile, I kept him just close enough to be part of the crazy, adrenaline-fueled world I lived in and just smitten enough that he would never willingly walk away from me. When others teased him I was his defender. When he felt down, I was his champion. When I was sent on a job by the Navy for 30 days, I sent him countless letter. I needed, at this point, to control his emotions from anywhere. And I did. He would do anything for me.
I remember just five weeks after meeting me, he was so enamored that when I randomly showed up at his door, asking for use of his brand new car to get my driver's license, he didn't blink. He just handed over the keys. He never let anyone touch his car but when I asked, and conveniently told him it was an errand I had to do alone, he never hesitated to give me the keys. He didn't need to know that I would often use his car to go see another man. He only needed to know what I was showing him. And I showed him a lot.
A month into the game, he revealed to me that he was still a virgin. Having been raised in a family that did not believe in sex before marriage, this was a revelation I was well-equipped to deal with and use to my advantage. He told me how he had promised his grandmother he would wait for marriage and then a year later his beloved grandmother had passed away. This actually played perfectly into my game because he was in no way attractive and I only had sex with the best looking men and therefore had no desire to ever have sex with him. After all, most men wanted me sexually so why shouldn't I choose only the best looking? I assured William that I was fine with that; that I believed the best relationships lasted , not because of sex, but because of genuine understanding, acceptance, and friendship first. I did wonder if he had ever been kissed, however, and he told me no. He wished to save that for the girl he someday, hopefully, became engaged to. Thus I found my first notch in the game. Of course, I first needed to verify that he was not also playing me. I became friends with all of his friends and when his family came out to visit for a brief amount of time, I ensured that they, too, loved me. Through these calculations and manipulations I was able to find out everything I needed to know about William. He was, indeed, a purely genuine guy. There were no pretenses with him. He was who he portrayed himself to be.
I spent a month subtly working him up to the point where, when I finally asked, he could not say no and he allowed me to kiss him. He didn't have a clue what he was doing but I did. He believed it was true love. I believed it to be a triumphant victory. After that, keeping him chained to me was much easier because if he ever began to feel neglected I needed only to coddle his emotions and give him sweet kisses and all was right in his world again. I made everything exciting for him because I didn't have boundaries and he did. He went to New York on leave for several weeks and I begged him for the biggest teddy bear he could find. He came back with one half the size of me and proudly handed it over. It was small, in the grand scheme of the game I was planning, but it was still just one more thing I proved to myself. I could get him to the point where he would deny me nothing. And I had an end game to what I wanted.
When he returned, I made a huge scene about how much I had missed him and then we drove to the center of downtown Honolulu. After parking, I took this normally mellow young man who never crossed boundaries and raced with him up the stairwell of the tallest building in the city. From there I convinced him to keep lookout while I broke into the roof access doorway and dragged him out on the roof with me. I could see the addiction for me growing stronger in his eyes every time I fearlessly rushed across a boundary and brought him with me. Another time I raced a police officer down the highway in William's car and then, when pulled over, I calmly and sweetly talked my way out of a ticket. William was infatuated with my carelessness of how I lived my life.
This relationship, which was not really a relationship, continued for a year. I think it only continued that long because for six of those months we were separated by a deployment. I had a goal. I wanted him to tell me he loved me and I wanted him to love me with every ounce of his being, before I went on deployment. After five months, a few weeks before I was to deploy, he told me he loved me. The reciprocating lie came easily from my lips because this as what I had been working towards, in part. We went to the mall after, and as we passed a jewelry store, I knew the moment had come. I dragged him in, claiming I just wanted to look because they had new pearls out and I loved pearls. He obliged, of course. My real purpose was to see if he would buy me an engagement ring without me asking.
At the glass counter I found the prettiest black pearl ring I could find. I oohed and ahhed over it, gushing about how gorgeous it was and how I adore pearls but had never owned one. I knew, when he told me he loved me, that he would want to marry me. After we left the store, I never brought up the ring again. We parted ways a few weeks later, me inducing pitiful tears about how much I would miss him, and him promising to write me every chance he got. Deployment was a breath of fresh air. He had grown stale and old in my eyes and here, away from friends of his that could report my comings and goings, I only had to maintain the relationship façade via the occasional phone call and letter.
It was during this deployment that one of his friends called me and let slip that William had purchased the ring I had been wanting. I knew, then, that it was game-set. I waited until one week before I was to return and called William. In fake remorseful tones I told him that I didn't really love him and that I had just wanted to make him open up to the world and that when I had told him I loved him it was only as a friend. The whole conversation was very hard - on him. He cried a little and his heart shattered and on the other end of the line, I was rolling my eyes and motioning my friend to wait for me and give me a minute to get off the phone. I promised poor William I would see him in a week and we could talk, then.
I was going to have that ring, though, because that would be the ultimate power play. I would get him to hand over the ring despite the fact that I had just brought his whole world crashing down around him. A week later, I sat in his room and soothed him, hugged him, placated him, and insisted I would always love him. I admitted how wrong I had been and that I never meant to hurt hm. He was still hoping against hope I would "come to my senses" and he obviously still loved me beyond measure. Finally, I managed to tear myself away. But not before asking him to show me the ring. He did. I asked to try it on. With a spark in his eyes, he readily agreed. The ring fit perfectly and sparkled darkly. I had no intentions of giving it back. I walked out of that house with the ring still on. He followed me like a lost puppy to my car where I gave him one last peck and told him if he really wanted the ring back I supposed he could have it. I gave him the most regretful, love filled, sad look I had ever given anyone and he slowly shook his head. No, he said, it was mine to keep. He had bought it for me, after all, and he would never give it to anyone else. I think he was still hoping for a change because he asked me to call him sometime.
I never contacted him again. I never even went out of my way to see him again. I had the ring, I had his heart, and I had his emotions. All the friends I had made through him, I lost when I did that to him. His family that had loved me and called me daughter, despised me. I didn't care. They had never really been my friends, just tools. And his family had certainly never been my family, just unwitting accomplices.
*Please note: This is not the blog where I justify anything. This is not the blog where I go behind the scenes and share the thousands of tiny details that went into this game and this is not the blog where I portray guilt. This is simply the blog where I share an excerpt from my past.
