I Won't Say I Hate You Back, by Gayle Gibson

Late fall, 2004

“Gayle, come here! Nick has something to tell you.”

It was my junior year of high school, and I had just settled into my spot at the lunch table. Luckily, most of my friends and I all got the same lunch period, so we could all sit together. I sat with a few girls I had grown up with, and my best friend, K. She and I shared a lot in common; especially our love for the 1940’s and 50’s. We even got the same exact lunch: a pretzel with cheese, and a salad with no meat, because we were both vegetarians. It was a typical afternoon at Oswego High School, K and I were discussing plans to go shopping for the semi-formal that was coming up. I wanted a black dress and she wanted a red dress. During the middle of our conversation, I was interrupted by a boy I had been talking to for a few months. I watched him sit down and laugh with his friends. I was waiting patiently to talk to him. We talked every day at lunch; he was very shy and every time he wanted to talk to me, he would have one of his friends yell to me to come over. I always thought that it was really silly, but I always went over when they called me. Soon after he sat down, one of his friends called my name. I got up and walked over. “What?” I said. “Nick has something to ask you”, said one of his friends in a giggly voice. The whole lunch table erupted with teenage boy laughter. I was beginning to get annoyed and started to walk away. “Wait!” someone yelled. I walked back over and looked at Nick. His olive skin turned pink with embarrassment. There was an awkward silence until I heard him ask, “Will you go out with me?” in a shy, coy voice. He ran his hands through his jet black hair and looked down at his feet. I looked at everyone’s face at the lunch table; they all looked like they were going to explode with laughter. Boys are so immature, I thought. “Sure. Yes.” I replied, and walked back to K and the rest of my lunch table. I heard everyone laugh and rolled my eyes. Duh.

Later that day, when I got into my room, it sunk in that I had a boyfriend. I had liked him for a long time, but I never thought that he liked me. We talked every night on the computer, but I never flirted with him or gave him any idea that I liked him. I don’t know why, I guess I didn’t really know how to flirt with guys and I wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend. I kept questioning why he asked me out. I didn’t think I was that pretty. I had brown hair to my waist that I curled in hot rollers every day, and I had a fascination with red lipstick and antiques. Everyone thought I was weird because of this, but I didn’t care. I looked around my room, everyone always loved my room. It was different than a lot of other seventeen year old girls. I had a record player and a growing collection of vinyl records. I used an old rotary dial phone. I always idolized old classic Hollywood stars. I stared at the huge Marilyn Monroe poster on my wall. I used to talk to Marilyn on my wall, as if she was listening and could give me her advice. On the other side of my room, I had several photos of Ava Gardner, Audrey Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Vivien Leigh, among others I had put together on my wall. After awhile, I come to the conclusion that he was too good for me. Almost every girl had a crush on him and everyone thought he was good looking. He was tall, muscular, had tan, olive skin and jet black hair that was always gelled into a wave. He was very handsome. He wore designer clothing and nothing about him was ever out of place. I wondered why he would want me. I figured he would have ended up dating my best friend, the pretty blonde. I was reminded that I had to start telling people that we were now a couple. I asked Marilyn who would end up hating me because of it.

Early winter, 2004

“K, are we still meeting at your house before semi-formal?”

I got my hair done in a high bun and put on my makeup. I put on a long sleek black dress and put on a diamond brooch. I donned a pair of five inch sparkly black heels. I went to my pretty, blonde best friend’s house to finish getting ready with the rest of our friends. I was excited to meet up with Nick at the semi-formal. We had been dating for almost a month now. K played the radio and touched up our makeup, gossiped about who was dating who and who wanted to dance with whom. I just kept thinking about meeting Nick there and dancing with him.

“Nick, take some pictures of us!”

K kept saying as she handed him her camera. I forgot my camera so we used K’s to take pictures. The five of us girls got in a group for Nick to take our picture. He told me to stand on the end because I was the shortest. He took a few different shots, but kept telling me to stand on the end. I believed him when he said it was because I was the shortest. We danced the whole night and I went back to K’s to sleep over. I talked to Nick on the phone. He was being very romantic. He told me he loved me. I told him back.

Middle of winter, 2005

“Gayle, I finally got the film developed from semi-formal. Come over later and I’ll give you some copies, if you want them.”

I got off the phone with K and walked to her house. She lived a block away from me. I was excited to see the pictures. K pulled them out of the Rite-Aid package and showed me them. She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t happy. She was frowning. I asked her what was wrong. She said, “Gayle, he cut you out from the group. He took pictures of the rest of us but left you out. You can only see your hand or arm in some of the pictures. That’s why he wanted you on the end. To leave you out of our group.” I didn’t really say anything; because what she said made sense. But I didn’t know why it made sense. Why would he leave me out of the pictures, I thought? I didn’t know what to say or think. I just sat there. I remember her pointing out, “You and I hang out less and less. We don’t even talk as much anymore. I’ve noticed that you haven’t been wearing high heels as much, your appearance has changed, and it’s not you. And I know it’s all because of him. I never trusted him and I’m not the only one who feels this way.” I immediately got offensive. I said, “You’re just jealous because you liked him and you thought he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. But he didn’t. He liked me. And you’re jealous because you’re used to getting all the attention.” She talked back with a bunch of reasons and attitude but I didn’t listen. I just left and walked home. I called Nick and told him about my visit at K’s. He said I was right, she was just jealous; and that he didn’t mean to cut me out of the pictures. He told me I shouldn’t be friends with her because she was a bad influence. He told me the only person I needed was him. And I believed it, foolishly.

Late winter, 2005

“Hey baby. My parents are gone for awhile tonight and they won’t be back until late. Do you want to come over?”

I asked my dad if he could drive me to Nick’s. He said sure, and we drove over to his house. He asked if his parent’s were home and I lied and said yes. I ran into Nick’s house. He had a black shirt on, my favorite shirt of his that he owned. I remember I wore a white lace shirt and a black pencil skirt. I remember everything about this night. He kissed me and told me he loved me. His house was dark. He took me upstairs and he had candles lit all around. I remember looking at the date on his calendar. He sat down in a big fluffy chair in his room. I sat on his lap and we watched the snow fall. It was peaceful and beautiful He picked me up and put me on his bed. I looked at the date on the calendar again. Before he kissed me he told me he was sorry I was losing all of my friends. He said, “They are just jealous, they probably want a reason to not be your friend anymore because you are prettier and smarter than them.” He told me all I needed was him. I looked at the date on the calendar again. January 29, 2005. This was the night I lost my virginity.

Early spring, 2005

“Hey baby. Do you want to go to the mall with my mom and I today?”

I watched out the window on a rainy day in March for Nick and his mom to pick me up. I really liked his mom, she was a soft-spoken, kind hearted person. She had a sense of fragileness to her, that made her seem kind of weak and tired. I didn’t know why, I just blamed it on my habit of over analyzing everything. She was thin as a rail, had a tan, olive skin tone and jet black hair, just like her son. Her hair was always perfectly cut into a bob and her nails were always professionally done. Looking at her, she looked poised and polished. It would take me a few months to realize that this woman was a wreck. We sat together in the back seat and held hands until we arrived at the mall. Winter was coming to an end and I was itching for some new spring clothes. I told Nick he should help me pick out some new clothes, since he was telling me what to wear all of the time anyway. When his mom pulled in the parking space, I pulled some lip stick out of my purse. He grabbed it out of my hand and told me I didn’t need any. I told him to “be quiet”, I didn’t want to make a scene in front of his mom. He said he was serious and I didn’t need makeup to make me look beautiful. I went to reach back for my lip stick but he stuck it in his pocket and got out of the car. We walked into the mall and I went into H&M, one of my favorite stores. I bought a skirt and some shirts. He told me I looked really nice in them but was quiet after that. I asked him what was wrong but he told me he was fine. I knew he wasn’t and I was beginning to question what I did wrong over and over again inside my head. We called his mom and asked her if she wanted to meet up with his to get lunch, but as always, she denied the request. His mother never ate. And if she did eat, she was always eating salads. I asked Nick, “Not to sound rude, but why doesn’t your mom eat much?” “She’s an anorexic bitch, that’s why.” I couldn’t believe what he had said. I would never speak about my mother that way. I felt embarrassed, and I felt outraged. “What? Why would you say a thing like that? That’s your mom. How could you say that? That’s awful.” He didn’t respond, and I didn’t say a word to him after that. About an hour later, we left the mall. When we got back to the car to drive back home, he grabbed my new clothes and threw them around in the car, like a maniac. I was stunned. I couldn’t even say anything before he yelled, “You slut, what do you want to look like in those clothes?? A whore or something?” His mom yelled at him to “shut up” and I began to cry. His mom asked “What did you get at the mall, honey?” “A skirt and a few shirts.”, I responded. He told me I was trying to look like “a cheap whore” and threatened to throw the clothes out the window. His mom kept yelling at him to shut up. For some reason, I felt like she wasn’t very surprised by his random outburst of anger. I almost felt like she was used to this sort of behavior from him, like she had been dealing with it all her life. I kept crying. A few minutes later, he apologized and begged me to come over to his house later so we could talk. I was so dumb that I actually agreed to it.

Middle of spring, 2005

“I’ll meet you at your locker and we can walk to your house after school.”

I closed my locker and waited for Nick. My old group of friends walked by me and didn’t say a word to me. I was starting to feel depressed. The only person I talked to now was Nick. I missed my friends, and I missed sleepovers. I missed wearing makeup. I missed wearing high heels. He finally came to my locker and we started to walk home together. I told him I saw K and the rest of my old friends walk by my locker earlier and that I missed them. “You’re such an idiot. You just are so stupid. It’s unbelievable.” Just after that, he pushed me down on the cement sidewalk. I tried to get back up, but he kicked me back down again. I got up and started running away from him. He chased after me, and pushed me down again. I tried not to cry. I wanted to punch his face. But I was certain someone was going to call the police because it was 3:00 in the afternoon. He held his hand over my mouth and told me to shut up and to just keep walking. I bit his hand, and walked ahead of him. When we got to my house, we went in my room. He told me he was sorry and he would never do anything like that again. He told me he loved me. He told me, “Just listen to me Gayle. Those dumb bitches are just jealous of you. Why don’t you listen to me? I know they are jealous of you. They can’t get a boyfriend because they are ugly and slutty. I’m glad you’re not hanging out with them anymore.” He told me the only person I needed was him. And I believed it, foolishly.

Late spring, 2005

“Hey baby, I’ll be over around 1:00 today.”

It was a warm Saturday afternoon. I decided to put some makeup on, for the first time in what seemed like forever. I figured Nick wouldn’t mind because it wasn’t a school day and no other boys would see me. I put on a vintage skirt from the 1950’s that my mom gave me for my birthday, and for the first time in a long time, I felt feminine and pretty. But I saw Nick’s look of disgust when he met me at my door. I ignored it and told him we should walk to the park by my house. When we got there, he said, “When we get back home, wash that shit off your face. It doesn’t make you look any better. I’m not even attracted to you when you wear it, did you know that?” Of course when we got back to my house I washed it all off. I offered him a bowl of ice cream and told him it was my second bowl of the day. He told me, “You shouldn’t eat anymore. You have gained weight and I like girls with sharp features.” I contemplated going to the bathroom to vomit, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was beginning to hate myself. I was so depressed. I realized I was beginning to hate him, too.

Early summer, 2005

“Hey baby. I’ll come over and we can go swimming in your pool.”

It was the beginning of June and it was a hot day. My parents went away for the day. Nick was going to come over to hang out. When he got to my house, he said, “I’m hungry. Can you make me something?” I was seventeen years old and didn’t know how to cook, so I made him a turkey sandwich. He took a bite of it and threw it at me. He said, “You are a useless bitch. You’re so spoiled, that’s why you don’t know how to cook anything. You’re such a spoiled little bitch. It’s pathetic.” I slapped him across the face and he slapped me back and pushed me to the floor. I got up, slapped him back, and threatened to call the police. He ran out of my house like the little coward he was. I began to sob and held my dog. I felt like she was my only friend left, besides my mom. I ended up taking a nap, and woke up to a sore face. A few minutes after I woke up, I heard Nick at my door, crying and begging me to let him in. Oh my God, what a pathetic life, I thought. “Please let me in, baby, please. I love you, just listen, please listen.” It was always incredibly annoying when he would beg me like that. What a joke. I let him in and he begged me more to forgive him. I told him, “I can’t take this anymore. Why would you slap me? What is wrong with you? I hate you. I fucking hate you so much.” He slapped me again and threw me in my bedroom wall. I sobbed. I looked at Marilyn, staring back at me on my wall. I needed someone to help me.

Middle of summer, 2005

“Hey baby. You’ll never believe the news I just heard!”

I met Nick at the Ritz Diner, ordered my usual green pepper omelet with home fries, and waited to hear this supposed “good news” he talked about. “I’m offered an internship in New York for four weeks. They’re going to pay for everything. My parents are going to visit every weekend, and they said you are welcome to come along with them.” I didn’t know what to think, I thought I was excited for him, but I wasn’t. I didn’t actually care. What I was excited about was that I was going to visit NYC and go to all the vintage shops. “That’s really great. And yeah, I’ll go along with them.” He left for NYC a few days later and I visited him that weekend. His mom and I took a bus, and Nick met us at the bus station. We walked back to the apartment that he was staying at. I was wearing sunglasses and when I took them off he noticed I was wearing mascara and red lipstick. He suddenly grabbed my arm and threw me in a closet so flawlessly and held the door closed with his arm. It was like he had practiced in his head over and over again about throwing me in there. His mom threatened to call 911, “Nicholas, I will call 911. You let her out of there! Nicholas! I said let her out! Are you crazy?!” He ignored her and I cried. I had been looking forward to coming here, and of course he ruins it. He ruins everything. He started screaming a bunch of words, words I couldn’t even make out, and then he finally opened the closet door. I told his mother, “Your son is crazy. He needs help. I want to get out of here. He ruined this trip; he’s ruined my whole life. Tell me when the next bus home is or I’m calling my parents.” She looked at me like she had no idea what I just yelled, and said, “Gayle, you’re too pretty and too young to be wearing makeup. I was older, in my twenties when I started to wear it. You know how he is with it, he is just like his father. I wished you would at least listen to me, honey. You really are prettier without it.” My mind went crazy. I wondered what was wrong with this family and their obsession over cosmetics was. I asked her again, “Please just tell me when the next bus home is. I don’t want to be here anymore!” Nick asked me to go outside with him, and we started walking around. We ended up in a restaurant in SoHo. I told him, “This is crazy. We have no relationship anymore. It is just a bunch of violence and fights. We need to take a break. I hate you more and more every day.” He didn’t say anything; he just got up and left me there, at this restaurant, in the middle of Manhattan. I started to panic. I called his mom on her cell phone. She met me at the restaurant and we walked back to his apartment. He screamed at me some more, “Stupid bitch. Go ahead and break up with me, you won’t. No one else will like you, you dumb bitch. You’re ugly. No one else will ever date you and give you things I have, stupid bitch.” I wanted to disappear.

Late summer, 2005

“Please, talk to me. We have to talk. I have so much I have to say.”

When Nick got home from New York, he called me and told me he needed to talk to me. I realized that our relationship was coming to an end, but I still did not want it to, as stupid as that was. I knew that we needed to talk, and that things needed to change. I also knew that the best option was for us to go our separate ways, but I shoved that thought into the back of my mind. I felt alone and vulnerable, and I believed that he was the only person I had left in my life. He came over in the afternoon and we talked. He told me, “I am going to see a psychiatrist, everything will be different. There won’t be any fights anymore. And things can be like they were in the beginning. My mom even said that it will help, too.” I had some hope that seeking professional help might “help” him and his anger issues, so I stayed with him. It was at the end of July, I had been with him since November, and just now he tells me he is going to see a psychiatrist; even though I had been telling him to do that for months.

The last two weeks of summer, 2005

“Mom, I need to tell you some things…”

Things had not gotten any better. Nick never went to see a psychiatrist. He lied about it to me in order to save me from breaking up with him. I knew it was just a matter of days until this relationship was finally going to end. Being seventeen years old, I thought this was the hardest thing I was ever going to go through. I was so depressed at this point that I wasn’t eating, and I wasn’t sleeping.

My mom came into my room one night to tell me my aunt from Arizona was visiting the next day. This cheered me up a little bit because she had always been my favorite aunt, and I adored her two children. She was in Oswego to attend her twenty year high school reunion. When she got to town, she called me and wanted me to go to the hotel where her and my cousins were staying at so I could babysit them while she was out. I knew I had to “check in” with Nick and let him know what I was doing and where I was going to be. When I told him, he said, “Okay, baby. Have fun. Call me when you get there.” I went to the hotel, and within two minutes of getting there I called Nick. When he answered, I could tell by his voice that he was suddenly in a bad mood.

“I want you to get home now”, he said.

“I can’t. I have to babysit my cousins.”

“I don’t care, get home now”, he snapped.

“WHY?” I snapped back.

“Because I fucking said so. That’s why. That’s the only reason you need. Get home or else I’m going to get pissed.”

”Sounds like you’re already pissed,” I said.

“Get the fuck home, you spoiled bitch. Why do you want to be at a hotel for?? So you can act like a whore like always? That’s all you are and all you’ll ever be. A useless whore. I hate you.”

After that, he was screaming so loudly into the phone that I couldn’t make out the words. All I could do was hang up. I can’t believe he was that angry because I was babysitting my cousins. I didn’t know what to do. I just started crying. My aunt came into the room where I was, she asked me what was wrong. I let the words flow out and I told her everything. I told her I fell in love for the first time, I had sex for the first time, I got punched in the face for the first time, I got told I was useless, a whore, a slut, a bitch, fat, ugly, for the first time. She started crying and hugged me. She called my mother to tell her she needed to come over. When I saw my mom, I said, “Mom, there are some things I need to tell you.” I told her that I wasn’t a virgin anymore, that Nick has been hitting me and verbally abusing me for seven months now. She stayed at the hotel with me that night. She called up Nick’s parents and threatened to call the police and get a restraining order, but his parents said it wouldn’t be necessary. Nick wanted to talk to me, but I wouldn’t let him. I just wanted to let it all go. I told my mom how much I missed K. How much I missed my friends. She said, “You know what to do. You know you need to call them and apologize. You need to tell them about you and Nick. If they are your friends, they will forgive you.” We ordered pizza that night and watched movies. For the first time, I felt like it was finally over. I felt relieved but I was incredibly heartbroken. When my aunt got back to the hotel, she offered me to stay at her house for a few weeks in Arizona before school started back up to get away from things for awhile. I asked my mom if I could go and she said yes.

A few days later, I was on a plane ride to Arizona. When I arrived, the air felt different. I felt different. I felt 100 years old. But I was only seventeen. Nick tried emailing me while I was there, saying “I miss you, I love you. I’ll see a psychiatrist now. I need you, come back.” But I knew that he was never going to change. I emailed him back:

“It’s over. You ruined it. Let it go, it’s the only thing you can do. I hope you don’t treat your next girlfriend the way you did me. I hope you learned something out of all this. I won’t say I hate you, because I don’t. You made me a stronger person. But you never loved me. You just wanted a punching bag, and for nine months that’s all I was. You say you never want to be like your dad but you’re just like him. You can’t help it, it’s the way you are. He’s an asshole, you’re an asshole. You should also have some respect for your mom, she raised you and she loves you. But you don’t care. As long as you can shit all over people and get away with it, that’s what you’ll do. Have a nice life, Nick. Don’t contact me anymore. It will just make things worse.”
That was the last time I talked to Nick. After I sent the email, I called K and we made up. I remember she said, “Gayle, I never hated you. I could never hate you. But there was nothing I could do. I knew what he was crazy, and when I tried telling you, you didn’t listen. I’m so sorry for the way things got. If I knew, I would have kicked his ass for you.” We talked for three hours that night, it felt better than anything.

I was in Arizona for two more weeks; I had to make the most of my time there. I rode my aunt’s bike through the desert, got lost, and called 911 to come pick me up. I watched the beautiful array of orange, red, pink, and yellow as the sun set every night. I went to Phoenix, shopped at an outdoor mall, and saw a movie at a huge, extravagant theatre. I saw and touched weird insects and reptiles I had never seen before. I touched a cactus, got pricked, and laughed with my cousins as they laughed at me. I rode a motorcycle for the first time. I played in the hot, gritty sand in my aunt’s back yard. I helped my cousins pick out a new puppy. I was bewildered when I saw wild hogs at the side of the road. I stayed out late and watched the stars. I laid under a palm tree and read books. It went by so quickly, it felt like two days.

I couldn’t wait to get home now; I missed my mom horribly, and I couldn’t wait to get back to her, and K, and my dog, and my dad, and my brother and the rest of my friends who forgave me. When I got off the plane in Syracuse, the air felt different. I felt different- like a new person. I still felt old, but I felt strong. When I passed through security, I saw my mom’s face, with tears streaming down her cheeks. I saw my brother standing next to her, and my dad, too. I ran to my mom and hugged her for what felt like an eternity. I was home. And I was okay.