Sleeping with the Enemy

I knew what he was when I picked him up. He referred to children as baggage, openly mocked heavy people, told me men are engineered to cheat, and only dated women without food allergies because he did not want to change his eating habits. Still, I was drawn to him.  Hypnotized by his charisma and knowledge of the outside world.  He was so real. He did things shamelessly. This man was also an Atheist. The opposite of everything I was supposed to desire.  The first time we kissed he just leaned over and kissed me. No apology. No hesitation. True to Mormon form I was awkward and confused. I’ve never dated a Man before. Only Mormon boys who were ashamed of their sexuality.

The first time we made-out he tried some things no man has ever tried with me. The way he moved his hand and his body was so different and so gosh darn sexy.  I was in another world and I never even took my shirt off. 

While he was on top of me he said, “God, I want to F^@k you so bad!”

I was shocked!  No man had ever said anything like that to me before.  It was like he found me to be desirable. I knew I was supposed to believe he was a monster for wanting to have extra-marital-pokey-poke, but honestly, I’ve never been so turned-on in my life.

I told myself that I would not have sex with someone unless he was my boyfriend. Oh but I wanted to! I even started doing things that would have made me have to talk to the bishop. One night after pretend pokey-poke, I started drilling him with questions about NOT being mormon. I asked him as if he was the authority on all things non-Mormon. I just wanted to understand his world.  Eventually he just said:

“That’s it! No more questions.”

“I’m just trying to understand your world. Don’t be mean.”

“Look, if you want a nice boyfriend, go back to the Mormon church.”

Despite his disposition of being an ass, I was excited at even the thought of him.  I wanted him to come over often and at night.  I tried very hard to be sexy for him but sexy and me have never really hung out.  Funny? Sure. Quirky? Absolutely. Sexy…honestly? Maybe when i'm really comfortable with a guy. I like being silly. One night I invited him over.  I put on sexist underwear (Sexy?). I even had a silk robe and black high heels. I wanted to tear into him like he was a pack of gum.  As the countdown quickened, I grew frightened.  How stupid of me to dress like this! My fear got the better of me and I put back on my jeans and T-shirt.

Right before he arrived, my brother called me, livid.  He heard from my Mom I was questioning the church.  He yelled at me and told me I did not have the right to leave. That now that I knew the truth I would be punished severely for leaving. I told him I was just looking at the history.  He said I was not inspired and did not have the right to study the history.  That the only history I should read should be the Book of Mormon.  It was a nasty conversation full of fear.

When Rob came over we began to play, but this horrible overwhelming guilt hit me.  My brother’s words put me in a state of panic. It was like the entire church was watching us. Monson, Holland, Oaks.  I stopped everything and whipped out my computer.

“Whao! What? What’s wrong?” said Rob.

“Oh... hahaha just um… Ah just um give me a minute.” I frantically hit Google and started typing “Reasons why the Mormon church is untrue.” I needed that kick in the face to remind me I was brainwashed and everything I was feeling was programmed in me.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Then he made the sound of a penis dropping.  

   

“Sorry,” I said. “Joseph Smith is the ultimate Cock-Block isn’t he?”

We started playing once more but this time I was locked in my head. Questions started rising.  Out of nowhere I ran into the bathroom again (See: the ‘S’ Talk).  I sat on the commode confused and angry at the Church, at my brother, and mostly myself.  After a minute I came back out of my shelter to find him fully dressed and annoyed. 

 He looked at me and said, “I’m gunna go. I’ll call ya later when you get your shit together.”

Why couldn’t he understand what I was going through? Why I was so frightened? So confused? This is uncharted territory for me. Maybe my world was just too much baggage…or maybe he really just didn’t care—after all, I knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with me.

“I just have one more question,” I said confidently. “Are we dating? Not exclusively of course, but is this something to you?”

His words drew near to me but his heart was far from me. The look on his face was all I needed to hear.