Wrong Stories

I am eighteen years old, it is my birthday today. The party starts and I am ready to play. The crowd shows up and the keg is tapped. Everyone was pleased and they all clapped. Three hours passed by and I drank too much. A finger stroked my face and I enjoyed the touch. We staggered to my room and lay on the bed. Before I knew it she was giving me head. I came in her mouth and she swallowed it all. Her clothes came off, sh...

You perceived my kindness as weakness. Now my strength is perceived as selfish. You perceived my silence as compliance. Now my voice is perceived as vile. You perceive my friendliness as reconciliation. Now my explanations are perceived as lies. You perceived my actions as needy. Now my actions are perceived as self-centered. You perceived my love as a reason to control. Now my control is perceived as heartless. I worry a...

I didn’t see Uncle Joe again until the night of the party. He was lying low I guess, not even hanging out by the pool. I was kind of disappointed, but understood why he was doing it. I should have been doing the same, not constantly hoping to catch a glimpse of him or accidently run into him. But as it was, our paths didn’t cross until the party was nearly over. The evening was well underway. There were about fifty people...