It started with small lies; his hometown, his major, his age. Those multiplied faster than I could keep up with. Then it was his past, his job, his whereabouts when he'd disappear for days, and other women.....
I let those lies fester until they oozed with toxic waste, eventually swelling into tall tales that would keep even the most intrepid soldier up at night. Because love is worth the fight - or at least that's what I was taught.
I learned later than he didn't even go to my university. He hadn't gone to my university, or any university, in a long time. In fact, he was 35, rather than the 23 he insisted.
And all those other women weren't just old friends or play sisters. But you already guessed that. Some of them had been around longer than myself. Stuck in an endless loop of romantic agony.
He spent his afternoons loitering in the student center closest to the female freshman dorms. He'd place himself in a comfortable corner where he could see without being seen; Hiding behind a laptop or an old book of sonnets he never read despite all the hours he spent staring at its pages to look interesting. A prop for the apex predator.
18, coy, and curious was his favorite flavor. He preferred the type who'd never been away from home. The sheltered young lady willing to try anything once with someone she trusted. He'd string her along and make her feel seen for a few weeks or months, even. He'd take advantage of her childlike persona and become the Prince Charming she grew up reading about in storybooks.
And then he'd break her; a cheating scandal here, a forced abortion there. He'd watch with self satisfaction as he plucked her petals one by one.
They banned him from campus once. I never learned why. Thanks a lot, Public Safety!
But that didn't stop him from parking his old Chevy outside her gates. That is how we met after all.
No one pulled me aside as I skipped back to my dorm with a grin. No.
No one told me the stories. No.
Let her learn.
Not that they would have stopped me anyway.
He had me at hello. He knew it and so did they.
So they watched, just as they had many times before. They gazed as he sunk his teeth into my naiveté. They glared as he slipped my innocence into his jar of hearts like a skilled pick pocketer; Reaching, delicately up my skirt to retrieve what was rightfully his, not mine.
And when it all fell apart, they laughed.
