Where to start?

I honestly feel that I know what a love/hate relationship really is.

Its how you feel when the woman you love, the person you would trade your soul for, your best friend in the universe, betrays you, your feelings, and everything that passed between you.

Jen was my love, my best friend, she was my heart. She betrayed me, and she used me... repeatedly.

I've never quite recovered from it, and it doesn't really matter any longer, i guess. I have learned to trust again. Thats a start.

I love her.
I hate her.

Its definetly an uncomfortable feeling being in love with the person you hate more than anything in the world... even 5 years later. ~sigh~

Sat Jan 26 2002
In retrospect: Another couple of years have passed. I loved her. I hated her. I've grown up mentally, and finally I've been able to forgive her. The real tragedy is that *I* let her do what was done. That I didn't respect myself enough to stop what occured. That is the real tragedy.

Sun Jul 14 2002
Even further in retrospect: She got in touch with me again. She said the one thing that could melt the barriers around my heart. She said she was sorry. I still care about her after everything that happened. That scares me alot. I'll never give her a chance to hurt me again, but the feeling is still there, and the walls still have to be put up. Maybe someday I'll trust her again... but I really doubt it.

Sun Feb 23 2003
Now... it's been a while, we quit talking for a couple months because I felt she was treating me like an object... a possession... she expected things I couldn't give and what I felt didn't matter, only what she felt. Then a week or so ago we started talking again, no apologies either way... but I think we're on clearer ground...
She won't tell you this, but the first time we saw each other she smiled at me in what I thought was a home schooled way. I remember this very clearly because I made a conscious effort to cold shoulder the fuck out of her, a typical Asian-American douche move on my part. If she ever did admit to smiling, she'd say it was because she thought it was funny that this short Asian kid got to class late on the first day of the semester, but we both know what the real reason was: cute guy, maybe if i smile he'll smile back. Not on my watch, sweetheart.

Things I noticed about her right off the bat: pretty brunette hair, pretty green eyes, a prominent nose (this is a nice way of saying she has a big schnozz), and this last one I didn't notice until I made way to the very back of the lab room and took a seat, she had bad posture, slouched a little too much. Overall, a girl attractive in her faults. And a nice tan, for a white chick.

We didn't speak until Anatomy and Patient Positioning lab, and she remembered the way I met her smile. She made sure to pay me back in spades. We happened to wander into the same lab group, and when we started getting familiar with the equipment and doing mock patient introductions, she criticized the hell out of everything I did.

"Ummm shouldn't you be asking me to take off my jacket since it has a zipper?"

Now she has a pair so inside I'm like Oh God yes take it off. But she said it like I was an idiot, which I'm not, I'm just oblivious.

"So what would you say when we're stepping behind the booth to shoot the x-ray?"

I tell her what I'd say.

"Hmmm that's an awkward saying."

Pardon me for not knowing how to talk to a fucking patient, having never worked in a clinical environment before. What's your fucking plan, if you've got a better idea?

"Hold still, I'll be right back to take your x-ray."


By the time lab is dismissed I want to punch this bitch in the arm, stuff her (admittedly rather full) ass into a locker, write "HEY Y DO U LIKE TO SWALLOW CUM" in her notebook. Later that night I blog about the bitch of a brunette who needs to chill the fuck out. I figured she couldn't help it, though. She seemed very type-A, different 3-ring binder for every class, went to bed before 11pm, brushed her teeth four times a day. She never told me these things and I never asked, I could just tell by looking at her.

We spent more lab time together, mostly because we shared every class together anyway, and because everyone else was foreign. I tried opening up to her:

"How can we try to remember the tube distances easier?" she asked one day.

"We can try failing out," I said, "That'll be easier."

She thought that was funny. Sometimes, she'd try to open up to me:

"Now Mr. Harrison, we're just going to take an x-ray of your torso, but we'll try to get you through this exam as quickly and as comfortably as possible."

She was talking to a dummy. The friendly thing to do would have been to laugh, oh hahahah you're talking to an inanimate object that does not have the capacity to respond how very clever. I stared at her like she was an idiot. She waited awkwardly for a moment for the appropriate response, and I made sure she felt dumb. Because you see, folks, I hold grudges, this was war, and I know how to wage a fucking war.

She eventually betrayed herself as a total nerd. I fucking knew it. Every morning we saw each other she'd greet me with a polite "good morning" that I swear to God wreaked of home schooled manners. During mock patient introductions, she'd answer inquiries about her designated injuries with something like, "I fell off a horse," and made a stupid face to herself. She made good stupid faces. She refrained from swearing. When I irritated her, her default response was, "shut your face," a sign of too much time spent with lame friends making lame jokes about each other.

I fell a little in love with her.

She started swearing because of me.

We became study partners. I actually really sucked at Anatomy and Patient Positioning lab. She agreed to help me study for it, but she had a question.

"What'd you make on Gary's test?"

"Eighty-five with the curve," I told her.

"Holy moly," she says, twenty-two years old in 2007, this chick, and she says, "Holy moly. Here's the deal, if you help me study for Gary's next test I'll help you with everything in positioning."

"OK." That's nerd speak for she wanted me, right?

You know those stupid boy-girl study partners in the library who obviously need to study somewhere else, like in one of their rooms or in the student center or somewhere else where one of the rules isn't "be quiet?" That was us. We were fucking douches. You're gay this, you're gay that, I hate you, I don't care, why are you so dumb, fuck off you cunt. We wouldn't shut the fuck up. Eventually we confined ourselves into the private study rooms with chalkboards, on which I liked to write that she "liked to suck dick" for the world to see. She would erase part of my message and write that I was a dick. I'd dot the "i" with a ♥. Then I'd tell her that out of all the people in the world who I hated, I hated her the most. She would pretend to be hurt by this. I liked it when her pretty face widened in shock.

Somehow, despite the fact that we'd spent the better part of our study time talking shit about each other, I got her next couple exams into the B ranges. And I learned how to position patients. We high-fived and agreed to be study partners forever, and that relationship has pretty much been exclusive - we would study in larger groups, who we would annoy with our incessant and often disgustingly juvenile bickering, but we got most of our work done together, one-on-one.

One day we were sitting together in a very long lecture, and she kept asking me questions, "What was that joint space called, what's the tube angulation?" And I was gone, man, I was somewhere on like a Mediterranean beach with her at sunset, my mouth nuzzled against her neck and shoulder and telling her she was beautiful, making her feel beautiful, before we had the most intense and intimate sex on the sand, eyes and mouths alternately locked together, forehead to forehead, stroking hair, hips, thighs.

She eventually got fed up and slid me a note, what are you thinking about? obviously not radiology

I laughed at her face, I wasn't going to tell her. First I wrote fuck off, then none of your bus and didn't finish because she huffed in exasperation. I decided to tell her part of the truth: girls

and she wrote back, now was that so hard? there was no reason for you to be such a DICK about it. my feelings are hurt :*(

I drew her a heart.

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