Ok, I know that you are all sick of me asking stuff like this, but you kind people are the only ones who can help me. I think in order to help, you might need to know my story. It's a long one. Here goes. I think telling people this will help. I think it will be a kind of therapy. Who needs therapists when you have TFP?
My kindergarden year, I met a girl that I, even at my young age, fell in love with. I only saw her for a few seconds, but I was instantly in love. I didn't even know what love meant, but I knew whatever I felt for her was different. I didn't see her until my second grade year. Before second grade, I talked to a TON of girls. I mostly hung out with females, because I could make them laugh easily. I liked the attention. I had a few "flings", if you can call them that, at such an early age, before I saw the girl again in second grade. The moment I walked into the classroom, I knew it was the girls I saw in kindergarden. I had almost forgotten about her. I didn't tell anyone for a while that I liked her. It took about half a year until I did. She found out, and we started hanging out. Alot. She followed me everywhere, and we did cute, elementry school stuff. We never kissed. During this time, I was still able to talk to women. Third Grade, I didn't have any classes with her, but we still talked to eachother occasionally. In fourth grade, I had all my classes with her, and we hit it off REALLY well. I hung out with her friends, all of which were female, and we all liked eachother very much.
Fifth grade is when things started to fall apart. I didn't have any classes with any of the students I grew up with. For some reason, despite the fact that my grades were the best in the school, they put me in the "dumb" class. The teachers wanted me to make the "dumb" kids smarter. the teachers told me this. I wasn't stimulated, and my grades started to fail. I stopped talking to the people I used to talk to my whole life. Then I got sent to social services because of some dumbass thing the neighbor kids did. I was told that experimentation with females is bad, etc. The usual social services bull shit. On february, I gave all my old friends valentine cards, male and female, to rekindle old friendships. The girls made fun of me ruthlessley. I became very quiet. I finally asked the girl I liked alot if she wanted to go skiing with me. I was going with her cousin, and he suggested I ask her to come with. She was indecisive, saying her parents were a little uneasy about it (which is understandable now, but I was in fifth grade and didn't even know sex existed). Finally she said she couldn't go. No problem.
The last day of school, and I asked her to hang out with me, because I was moving to Boulder. When I called, I heard her scream, and one of her friends said she went and hid somewhere in the bushes outside. I felt like shit. But my parents said that maybe she did it because it was the first time someone asked her to go on a "date". We were both twelve. Two weeks later, one of her friends called me and said, "She is at one of her cabins in Telluride. And besides, she doesn't like you".
I wanted to die for a few weeks, and I moved to Boulder.
Before anyone thinks I am a clingy, over-complimenting stalker type, it isn't who I was. I was the popular kid until fifth grade, before I geve the valantine cards.
I couldn't stand Boulder. My grades were awful, and I pretty much gave up. In one short year, I went from the kid that all the teachers loved, to the kid that teachers thought was dangerous (mostly because in my hometown school, JnCO jeans were a huge fad. The teachers their knew what it was, but the ones at Boulder didn't. I found out that I am skinny at Boulder. People picked on me alot in Boulder. I fought almost daily. I got spat on, all because of my cheesy image. I became even more introverted.
I went back to my hometown.
I was not greeted warmly. The second most popular kid, one who was always competing with me, was the head of the grade. My welcome was not a warm one. He was nice to me in person, but people told me that he talked shit about me behind other people's backs. I was convinced that I was less then him. I followed him around like a stray dog, trying to be popular. It never worked. I was the skinny, nerdy kid who always got picked on. Most of middle school was like this, as well as my freshman year in high-school. I had two or three friends that I hung out with, and I always tried to hang out with the popular group. During my freshman year, I changed my look to appease the preps. I started wearing Abercrombie clothing. One of my best friends dated the girl I was obsessed with, right after he told me all this stuff about her to make me mad at her. I haven't been on good terms with him since.
My sophomore, I found out I was good at acting, but I was still introverted. On Christmas Eve, my house burned down, and I think it was my fault. I lit some candles, my family left the house, and it burned down. The popular kid moved away that summer.
My Junior year, I met the first girl I was able to have a relationship with. For some reason, I was my funny, outgoing self around her. She kissed me on the cheek the morning after I met her, which was my first "kiss". I found out the next day she had a boyfriend. I was pissed, but not pissed enough to stop hanging around with her. She eventually dumped him, and we made out one night. That was the first real kiss I had. She dumped me the day after.
After that, I started to grow up a little. My senior year was a little bit better. I began to talk (nervously) to girls again. I ended up getting Prom King and I was voted funniest person. But I hadn't even kissed anyone until this year, my freshman year in college (more on that later).
The night of the last day of school, I went to a party with alot of people. The Girl's best friend was there. She was drunk, and I was drunk. We talked alot, and she apologized for being a bitch. She also told me how amazing my acting is, and she said that she had a dream that I died. She also told me that the Girl and her always talk about me and that they think it is cute that I asked her out. We exchanged cell phone numbers.
I felt great. But the rest of the night, she seemed really distant. I didn't know why until a few days later.
I left my wallet at the beach we were at, with a condom in it.
My friend told me that she was making fun of me for it at a party I didn't go to. He said she had my wallet. I called her only one time. I asked for my wallet, got it from her, and haven't talked to her since.
Now, here in college (I'm almost done! Hooray!) I met a few girls, and have done better at being able to talk to them. But not much better. It is only with the aid of David D'Angelo's material that I am able to talk to girls. But it isn't much of an improvement. Now I seem like too much of an ass.
Anyhow, last weekend, the girl I made out with drove eight hours with my family to see a play that I put on. We made out at a party. I was drunk, she wasn't. It was the first time I had a girl touch me where the sun don't shine, and the first time I touched a female's breasts. You probably don't want to know that, but that is the furthest I have gotten. I think I pushed her too far. I tried getting down her pants, and failed. She told me afterwards that she has a boyfriend.
Anyhow, that is my story. I need you to help me break out of my shell, so that I can meet people who aren't insane. Should I try to get hold of the girl that gave me her cell phone? Am I right in being mad at her? I am also scared to talk on phones, because of the trauma. Should I see a psychiatrist or should i just try, slowly, to break out of my shell?
I'm sorry if this post seems insulting, because I know there are people with worse lives than me. I just needed to get it off my chest. This is the first time I have told all this. I haven't even told my parents or friends. I really do feel better, now that I have gotten this off my chest. Thank you for listening, and for your input.