The Strongest Weak Person I Have Ever Known

Jules called me again last night at 3 am. This is the usual time of night, when she calls me upset. She is either upset about waking up from a bad dream, or upset about making “a sex mistake” as she puts it, with some random guy she picked-up at the bar that night. When I wake-up from the sound of my phone ringing at 3 in the morning, I always play a little game with myself. I try to guess the reason for Jules’s call. I have known Jules since grade school. She and I used to live next door to one another. It’s funny, our parents still live there to this very day. I have been in love with Jules since I can remember meeting her on the first day of 3^rd grade. There was something magical about Jules. It was a magic I could not quite understand at such a young age. There was magic in the way her freckles were meticulously placed on her cheeks. There was magic in the way the wind would blow through her strawberry blond hair, when she would swing back and forth on the swing set. There was magic in the way she would smile at me; numbing every single part of my body. Jules’s magic was a beautiful magic. It was not until I became older, when I came to understand the magic I felt for Jules, was actually the love I felt for Jules. Unfortunately, Jules did not feel the same love towards me. She thought I was the best friend in the whole wide world, when all I could think about was kissing her alabaster body from head to toe. Every night before I would fall asleep, all of my thoughts were about Jules. I use to imagine how her lips tasted, how her hair would feel in my hands, and how her naked body would feel embraced with mine. Nothing romantically ever developed between Jules and myself. No matter how hard I tried, she was only interested in friendship. After high school, Jules left Houston; attending college at Ohio State. Jules’s flunked out of school in sophomore year. Apparently, she developed a very bad drug and alcohol addiction during her stay at Ohio State. When Jules came back home, her parents checked her into a mental health facility, where she lived for the next six months. After her release, I used to see her sitting on the front steps of her parent’s house. Jules would sit with her arms around her legs, with her head resting on her knees. She would just sit there; rocking herself back and forth for hours. It was heartbreaking seeing her this way. Jules never opened up to me about her addiction problems, nor have I ever asked her about it. Sadly, I have never seen Jules wear a short sleeve shirt, even in the summer time. I always thought if she saw me differently, more than just her friend, maybe she would not have gone off to school. Maybe she would have stayed here, never developing a drug and alcohol problem, because I would be there for her; loving her. I know now, none of that would have made a difference. Jules had problems; deep emotional and psychological problems, which could only have been treated with the help of a professional. I know that now. I always thought I could have helped her, but now I know the truth. Jules and I are still friends to this day. From knowing Jules since we were young, I can see how being in a relationship with her would have never worked out. I would have never been able to love her romantically, but only as a friend. I guess this too would also be a part of her magic. At a young age, she knew we were only meant to be friends; nothing more. Nowadays, Jules only seems to contact me when she is experiencing one of her emotional distresses. When I heard my phone ring, I knew it was Jules without even having to look at it. I laid there in bed; thinking, Jules, when are you ever going to learn? Reaching for my phone; I leaned back into my soft pillow as I answered, “Hi Jules. Everything alright?” I could only hear her heavy panting, as though she was having a panic attack. I asked, “Where are you? Are you home?” A soft reply came through, “I am.” I asked, “Are you alone?” Another soft reply, “I am.” This is when Jules opened up, “I’m glad you answer the phone when I call. I know it’s not okay for me to call you this late, or this early. I just wanted to hear your voice. Your voice has a soothing effect on me. It calms me to hear your voice. Ever since we were young. When we were young. Why didn’t we ever date? How come you never asked me out, or tried to kiss me?” I replied, “Did you forget? I asked you out, several times over several years. You would always tell me you only had feelings for me as a friend. You did not want to go out on a date with me, because friends did not date one another. I asked you out several times over the years, and you always blew me off. You have always known how I have felt about you, so don’t even try to act as though you never knew.” There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Jules finally replied, “Oh, I just didn’t know any better back then, maybe now, maybe I still don’t know any better. I did something tonight, something I shouldn’t of.” I hesitantly asked, “So, what did you do tonight Jules, that you shouldn’t have done?” Jules was silent on the phone for a good two minutes. I could hear her breathing; lighting up a cigarette, then exhaling. After her third exhale; she says to me, “Well, I met this guy online. He and I have been talking online and on the phone for about three months now. We finally decided to meet up tonight for dinner. I was not sure if it was the right thing to do, but three months is a long time to talk on the phone with someone, without ever meeting them. Of course, we sent each other pictures, but I guess the pictures, and the phone conversations just weren’t enough. I met up with Steve, that’s his name, at Big Ralph’s Bar, down the street from my apartment. I thought if things went well, or if we both had too much to drink, it would’ve been easy to just come back to my place. Well, things did go well, and we both had way, way too much to drink. When we came back to my place, Steve asked me if I fixed. His question threw me off, and right then I knew he wanted to shoot up. I could feel my mouth salivating and my skin beginning to itch, after he asked me that question, which threw me off because I thought I conquered that habit a long time ago. I knew as I looked him dead in his eyes, as he stood there right in front of me, I knew I hadn’t conquered a goddamn thing. Steve and I found our way into my bedroom, and onto my bed. We started kissing and one thing led to another. Before we really got into it, he wanted us to fix before we fucked. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, but I fixed anyway. He gave me more than what I wanted to start off with. All I can remember is him removing the needle from my arm, before I went dark. When I awoke, all of my clothes were on the floor, I had blood on my chest, and I could feel a wet, sticky, slimy feeling between my legs. When I reached down to feel it, I knew then it was his cum. He fucked me after I fixed, and then left me naked and bloodied. I’m not sure if this is my blood or his. I’m not cut anywhere. So, where would it come from? It must be his. I’m sitting here naked on the floor, leaning against the bed.” I would get these types of calls from Jules almost every weekend. This is when she would meet up with the men she was talking to online. I asked her, “Do you think maybe it is a good idea for you to not meet up with strangers you meet online, and then take them back to your place?” Jules angrily replied, “Well, how the hell else am I supposed to meet a man? At one of those fucking Narcotics Anonymous meetings? They are all drug addicts and pedophiles! I mean, I know that I got problems with certain addictions, but I’m not fucked up like those other people in there are. Holy fuck! That motherfucker! That motherfucking motherfucker! Hold on!” Jules apparently dropped the phone down on the floor next to her bed. I could hear her cussing fading in and out, as though she kept walking in and out of her bedroom. After about five minutes, Jules picked the phone back up. She proceeded to tell me, “That goddamn motherfucker! That piece of shit motherfucker! I’m going to kill that piece of shit! The blood on my chest was my blood! When I was talking to you, I could feel my ass getting wet. I looked down, thinking I might have spilled my beer. It was not beer I was sitting in; it was blood! My asshole was bleeding, and I didn’t even know it! That goddamn piece of shit motherfucker fucked my ass, then rubbed his cock all over my chest! What a piece of shit motherfucker!” I laid there in bed; thinking about when Jules and I were in high school. I thought about all the times I asked her out on dates, only to walk away from the sound of her laughter. It is confusing how someone would choose a tortured way of life, as opposed to a grounded, loving way of life. I can hear her whimpering over the phone, as she is trying to keep the tears within her. Jules rarely cries; holding on tightly to her sadness. She tries to act strong, as Jules is the strongest weak person I have ever known. I somberly replied, “Why don’t you change your sheets, take a shower, and then you and I can go get breakfast.” There was another long pause on her end, as though she had to think about it, weighing out her options. After a long deliberation; Jules replied, “No, I need to stay here and clean. And just so that you know, I can take care of my own damn self! I don’t need you, or anyone else trying to help me! Why do you always try to take care of me? You’re not my father, and you damn sure aren’t my man! You couldn’t handle me even if you were! You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like me! All you men are the same! All you men want is my pussy and my ass, that’s all you men think I have to offer! There is a lot more to me than just my pussy and my ass! I know who I am, and I definitely do not need your help or anyone else’s help! Do you understand me? What would you do if I did allow you to help me? Put me in another psyche ward like my parents did? Do you know how many times I was raped in there by the doctors, the orderlies, and the other patients? It was every fucking day! I had to have two abortions while I was in there. My parents didn’t believe me when I told them! They kept insisting I was lying! They would yell at me, telling me to stop lying! How the fuck can anyone ever help me? I have learned that everyone is on their own in life! There is no one who is going to make everything better for you, and there is definitely no one who is going to take away all of your problems! There is no one who will tuck you into bed, and watch over you, protecting you as you sleep! When you can sleep, you have to do it with one eye open. At those shitty Narcotics Anonymous meetings that I go to, they always talk about a higher power, God, Jesus, and all that lame fucking bullshit! Let me tell you, there is no fucking power higher than truth! The truth in life, is that we are all fucked! Life is not designed for people like me, for people who just want to be free and explore. Life is designed to tie you down to a job, mortgage, kids, and paying fucking bills for the rest of your life. What kind of fucking life is that? And I’m the one who everyone thinks is fucked up? I don’t know if you know this or not, but the summer between junior high and high school, this is the summer when my father started visiting me in the middle of the night. I would wake up to his cold hand, caressing my lower back and my ass. He said this was what a real father and daughter relationship was supposed to be like. He also told me that if I told my mother, she would kick me out of the house for lying. My whole life I have been telling the truth, but nobody ever believed me. This was the real reason why I never went on a date with you. Of course, I loved you and wanted to be with you, I just didn’t want you to find out about my father. I have always regretted not being with you, I just never felt good enough to be with you.” I laid there in bed, thinking about the past; remembering all of those times I walked up on Jules as she was mumbling to herself. I always wondered what that was about; now I know. I asked her, “Is this why you always call me when you need help?” She replied, “I call you when I need to hear your voice, and those are usually the times when I am hurting, when I am in trouble. Yeah, when I need your help.” This is what I hear from her, every time she calls me. I have been in love with Jules, since the first time I laid eyes on her; I still am. I do not think there is anything, or anyone, which could ever change that. I know it is not psychologically healthy for me to talk to her; knowing she and I will never be together, but I cannot help it. My heart hurts and misses Jules, when I do not hear from her; consequently, my heart also hurts when I do hear from Jules. I know she and I will never be together, as I want nothing to do with her romantically. There is a sick and self-defeating compulsion, which resides deep within me. This sick compulsion will not allow Jules to leave my life: never.