It has been seven months since the day Sam and I broke-up (believe me I use the term loosely). We have been together for six months, and I know you're going to hate me for this, nobody knows except me and him. It isn't just him this time; it's me too. I felt guilty for the pain I caused him.
It isn't only the fact that he was possibly the most beautiful guy I had ever seen that has me fawning over him like I'm a love-sick puppy, but that he opened up to me. Sam wasn't afraid to give himself to me. I know at this point you may think that I gave it up to him the moment he opened those scrumptious lips to ask me out, but I didn't. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that I gave in to his many failed attempts. And the only reason I made love to him was because we had connected on a deeper level and it just felt right. He would talk to me about anything; his problems with his family, financial or otherwise, how hard it was for him to be the new guy in school and the pressure he was under because of all of that. There were a lot of nonsense things in there too, and I mean a lot. Sam isn't smart and things seem to fly over his head (and I need to use a better word because you see a lot just doesn't do his ignorance justice) in obscenely large amounts. Nevertheless, it doesn't bother me because that's who he is, and I love him.
The day we started our physical relationship was the day he told me about the thing that has been plaguing him his entire life. He told me how when he was a little younger (before he became the ripped Greek god he is today) he was constantly ridiculed about his mental incapability. In the beginning, he tried to defend himself, fight back, but he was a scrawny little thing and got his butt handed to him one too many times and decided on another approach. He simply spoke less. That worked for him, so, he just stuck with it even though he had grown and could definitely defend himself. Because of that he always felt inadequate, like he wasn't smart enough, but I made him feel different. I made him feel like he could be who he was because who he was, was good enough.
Did Sam deserve some cruel words from me? Heck yeah! But I shouldn't have used the issue that made him feel most vulnerable, and the very thing that he thought he could trust me not to use.
The other reason why I am secretly dating Sam again is that I knew things would turn upside down and backwards if he were to be seen walking me down the halls of McKinley. He would be the biggest target for slushy facials and the football players would never let him hear the end of it. Sam's not as strong as I am; he wouldn't be able to tolerate it like I do. It would probably crush him. He kind of has an I need everyone to like me complex. Add that to the fact that he doesn't like confrontation, and you get someone who would probably freak with anxiety attacks expecting to be assaulted every day.
Also, he didn't hurt me on purpose, if anything he was trying to spare my feelings. Sam never attacked me personally, which I did (not exactly my proudest moment) and it ruined him. I diminished what little part of what we had that was pure. I kind of figured I owed him my compliance until he was ready for us to be more than his best kept secret because after the argument, Sam was a total wreck. He wasn't eating, and from the looks of things he wasn't sleeping. That lasted for about three weeks after our argument.
AN: Don't forget to review. I really would like to know what you think, good or bad. Also let me know how you are liking the chapter format.
nakala