It’s been so long since I’ve written about the tale of Princess and Ryan. I don’t really feel comfortable saying Princess and “Sully” because I don’t think Princess looked at me as just “Sully”. She looked at me as something more than that. More than just a buddy. She looked at me as Ryan, as a companion. A companion in every sense possible. Intellectually, emotionally, socially, and, of course, sexually. However, I don’t know if I was even simply a companion to Princess. I was, and possibly still is, her other half. I know I probably sound a bit confident in the “still is” part of that statement, but I have enough reason to make that assertion. I
‘ll get to that later.
As I write this, with music uncharacteristically playing in the background (I almost always write in silence because I do suffer from a case of ADD) I realize how easy this whole story comes to me. When I write, I almost always take long pauses to make sure something looks right and sounds right. I’m just a perfectionist in that regard. But with this story, a tale of two young people caught up in such an emotionally charged rollercoaster of a relationship, it just comes straight from the mind and out of the fingers instantly. It’s like there’s this force propelling me to share this experience. I don’t think this force is either necessarily positive or negative, but it’s a force nonetheless. A force of caring. A force of self-defined loving. A force of nature. A force of this experience we call life.
The details after what I call my “seeing red” night aren’t as clear to me as the events prior. After that night, Princess and I didn’t talk for a few days. I left her at Jim’s house to fend for herself in the way of a ride home, which wasn’t a HUGE deal because both Jim and his boyfriend, to my knowledge, were easily able to drive. But still, I was Ryan, the man who Princess loved and trusted. That night, in her mind, I betrayed all of that. Why would she talk to me after that? Well, she didn’t.
As far as I can remember, I made the first move.
I think I was at my grandmother’s house one evening a week or two after the “incident” when I texted Princess. In a nutshell, I told her that I should have controlled myself better and would work on managing my anger better in the future. Princess responded right away, telling me how wrong I was and how much trouble she could have gotten me into. I shot back that in fact she could not have gotten me into any trouble, because there was no bodily harm done, and most glaringly, there were zero witnesses. What did she have to go on? In my view, what I did was a glorified Three Stooges noogie.
We went back and forth for a few minutes exchanging our charged opinions on the events of that night. To me, it was old news, but in Princess’s mind, it was like my hand had just left her skull. She was so upset by what happened that she didn’t speak to or text me at all in at least a week. That was unheard of. I thought about it every day in between, and I’m sure she did too. People make mistakes, and I admit I made one that night. I still think Princess made a bigger deal out of it than it was (especially with talk of the police and everything like that) but I shouldn’t have done it.
Anyway, Princess and I made peace thru the wonderful world of text messaging and were cool again. I was a bit nervous going to work shortly after that, as Princess had threatened me that a lot of people there “wanted to kick my ass”. I don’t know where this ever came from (probably Princess’s version of the story coupled with her own fantasies) but not one single person in the whole entire facility ever said one word about it, nor did one person there even give me a dirty look. It was as if no one knew anything about what happened. They might not have. Who really knows? I didn’t care about that, though. It was my business. Our business. No one else had any right whatsoever to say anything about it, and if they ever did, they would have gotten a HUGE piece of my mind.
It was certainly out of line for Princess to threaten me with multiple physical beatings. In my opinion, that was worse than what I did. Princess was good at topping people in the “worse” category when it came to events in our relationship. However, I’m not here to attack anyone in that regard. I’m just here to tell a story. A story, that, from what I gather, MANY people want to read more about. When I write that Princess was good at topping people in the “worse” category, I’m strictly talking about the events I experienced in our year-and-change long relationship. I don’t mean it to hurt feelings, but I can’t help the reaction it’ll garner. I’m just the young guy pounding on a keyboard. Be easy on me. And rip me to shreds. That’s up to you, dear reader.
For those few months after the (what I guess to be the August) incident, Princess and I were on good terms again. Things seemed to be back to the way they were before, and I think they truly were. The bond we shared was just too strong to be broken over something like that. We continued our totally sexual, totally non-sexual relationship of laughs, smiles, and amazing times. I was enjoying every minute of it, and so was she. But then there’s that day, That day we all recognize as our date we came out of momma’s nether regions. Our birth date, more commonly referred to as our birthday. Princess’s birthday falls on December 22, three days before the birth of Christ. Hey, cool people are born close together, right?
Princess was really good at planning things and getting things in order. She had to be good at it, because neither of her parents could handle many of those kinds of tasks. To celebrate her birthday, and to spend some time with her mother (who I admired very much), Princess arranged to go on a cruise. I believe it was a flight to California, where they would then board a cruise to Hawaii, where her and her mother would spend a couple days taking in all the beautiful sights and many festivities of the state. Really, in relation to this story, the specifics of the trip aren’t important. Princess was gone for a week or two (I think closer to two) and I was able to see all the cool pictures she took while on her trip. Trust me, she took a lot of pictures.
She loved attention and sharing everything and anything about herself, and what better way to do it than posting thousands, literally thousands, of pics to social media powerhouses?
When Princess and her mother returned from their trip, I agreed to pick them both up from Pittsburgh International. I rarely do these kinds of things for ANYONE but close family, but I agreed to do it for them. I cared. I really did. Doing something like that was a great way to show it, and Princess and her mother both really appreciated it. I didn’t know my way around the airport, or ANY airport for that matter (and still don’t) but when I eventually located Princess she ran at me full speed and jumped into my awaiting arms. The smile on her face was ear to ear, and her eyes were glowing with joy. As her body was pressed against mine during that hug at the airport, I could feel her happiness reverberating through my chest. It was unbelievable. I didn’t want it to end. But let’s face it…I don’t work out, and can’t hold anything forever.
We dropped her mother off at home, and after helping her inside with all the luggage (Princess had lots of it, of course), Princess and I took off to spend some much-needed time together. Hell, it had been a couple weeks! We ended up at Cain’s (one of my favorite places, and a place Princess really liked too) so it made for a nice night of catch-up. It was January 3, 2013. I know this because Princess and I had a conversation on Twitter that night about how much she missed me and appreciated me picking her and her mother up at the airport. She knew I didn’t do those things a lot at all, unless if it was for people VERY close to me. It made me feel good to know she and her mother appreciated it that much.
Princess loved to take and be in pictures (the attention factor weighing in heavily here), but I’m the polar opposite. I don’t like being in pictures because, quite frankly, I don’t think I ever look good enough. I know I sound like a bitchy 13-year-old girl right now, but it’s true. I went to the bathroom while at Cain’s, and in another uncharacteristic move, left my brand new iPhone5 on the bar. Granted, Princess was there to watch over it, but still. That was MY shit! Very expensive shit, too. I didn’t want anything to happen to it, but regardless, I left it on the bar. While I was gone (it couldn’t have been more than 2 minutes) Princess took it as a photo-op. She was just having some fun, but when I got back, there were literally 5-7 photos of Princess sipping her drink and making faces on my new iPhone.
I felt a tad uneasy about her touching and using, and (maybe even going through?) my phone like that. Just being honest here. But after looking at the photos, I could only smirk. I don’t remember how I discovered the photos. It might have even been after we left each other for the night. I felt good about the fun night, and I felt even better about where Princess and I were at that point, and where we were going. We had established a funny kind of relationship by then. One where we weren’t just friends, but neither did we have a full-on relationship in the truest sense. I’m talking about sex here when I say “truest sense.” Everything else was as if we were boyfriend/girlfriend, and hell, I loved it. She did too.
We were in a comfortable, content place. Little did either of us know that that comfortable, content place would soon become a living hell.
To be continued in part VII.
I mentioned Twitter in this post. FOLLOW ME! @SullyShow17