Back when I was young and naïve,
at the tender age of 16, I was somewhat unfamiliar to the whole relationship caper. It seemed pretty exotic and desirable to me, so I blundered into this rotten business the only way a socially isolated faggot from the suburbs knew how to: the internet!

At the behest of a friend, I signed up to a website whose intended purpose was to help young homos find friends and feel a little less strange/suicidal. The problem with this was that it had an upper-bound in terms of members' ages of 25, which made for some pretty unpleasant conversation.

Too nice to say no, I wound up talking to a 23-year-old who seemed a little eager to meet me. I could have taken that as a warning sign, but I was pretty stupid back then. Eventually phone numbers were exchanged and it just got so fucking weird.

Constantly, he'd be calling. Not to say anything, either. Just to talk about whatever stupid minutiae he had on his mind. But I was a little flattered, to have all this attention being paid to me. It was only natural that we soon met to go see a film or something similar.

Anyway, cutting all that short, after making me walk out of the film, he insisted that I return to his place so he could show me his turntables or some other shit like that, so I went. Not 3 seconds after getting inside, he wants to get down and dirty. So, we did. And it was alright by me, not being either a virgin or a prude. What really bothered me came later, when he insisted that I couldn't leave...and that when I tried to, he stopped me from doing so.

Still being a fucking moron, I let this crap relationship form, which basically consisted of him getting me exceptionally drunk, possibly also spiking said drinks, and accusing me of infidelity, to the point that he forbade me to talk with any males apart from him. This, while he saw no imbalance with going out to clubs and so on any and all nights of the week.

After a few months of emotional abuse, I was able to break free. Sort of. Calls didn't stop, for example, and if I answered I'd have to deal with a whole world of grief about how I was killing him. Lies weren't out of the question, with him dragging out that old stand by for insane rejects, "I have cancer."

There isn't really a happy resolution to all of this. With hindsight, I blame myself a fair bit for it all ever happening. Eventually he gave up on the stalking front, though I know have a healthy distrust of Mancunian accents.

Length and apologies and stuff.
( Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 7:45, 6 replies)

Could happen to anyone
as you'll have seen in this QOTW!

Don't blame yourself. As you say, you were young and naive. He knew how to take advantage of you. Someone in your position has little defence against a creep like that.

Looking on the bright side, you learned from it and won't be pushed around like that again!
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 8:12, closed)

I blame you too

( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Sat 23 Oct 2010, 9:46, closed)

Were his turntables impressive?

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 10:14, closed)

Not in the slightest.
They weren't even his, the cheap cunt.
( Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 11:41, closed)

Not technics then?
I love my WHOLLY OWNED BY ME technics.

I have a Pioneer mixer too.
(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 18:08, closed)

What you have
Is two record players and one set of speakers.
( Dervel OTBC, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 12:21, closed)