Back when I was 19, I was kind of a loser- sexy, smart, talented, but still somehow a loser. I suppose I just had difficulty trusting people (with good reason, a story for another time), so I didn't socialize with my room mates, and hardly ever went out- due in large part to how little money I had. I went to classes, came home, studied, and practiced guitar. Life was simple, but not entirely dissatisfying.

About a month and a half after moving in with my roomies, a friend of a friend of a friend- let's call her A- started hanging around the house. I ignored her because I was shy, she was pretty, she had a boyfriend, and I assumed that like 99% of our other guests, she just wanted a safe place to drink and hit the bong (we were all freshman in a town with a police helicopter that would fly over on weekends and radio the location of parties to ground units, which would then roll in and issue MIP's to everyone there).

With all due haste, she broke up with her boyfriend (who begged her, whilst on speaker phone in front of everyone at the house, to stay with him, lest he take his own life), got drunk, and crawled into bed with me one night. I was such a low-self-esteem idiot (and a virgin, at this point in time), that I let it evolve into a relationship, over the course of which my grades suffered, I made poor choices with regards to how often I smoked and drank, and hardly ever did the things I enjoyed.

About eight months later, she got a part-time job baby-sitting for a filthy rich family, who just so happened to have a 17-18 year old son, who by proxy, was also filthy rich. I don't think I need to write what happened next.

In the end, I wound up with a broken heart, all of my former friends turned against me, academic probation, etc etc etc. But all that didn't stop me from getting back on the horse and trying again... and again... and again... until I finally figured out that women are materialistic whores, and really not worth the time and effort. Thanks for reading.

Edit: I forgot the best part! The flower of campus rape hysteria was beginning to bloom at this time, and it bore venomous fruit indeed. After we broke up, for whatever reason, we still saw each other occasionally to talk n' stuff. Anyways, she decided she wasn't having this "friendship" anymore, so instead of telling me, she simply went ahead and called the campus police and told them... actually I still don't know what she said to this day. I showed up late to class one day, and my professor jubilantly announces that the police had been there looking for me. I had no idea what for, and I figured they would catch up to me sooner or later, so I went down to the local station and turned myself in. They asked me if I knew what I had done wrong- I replied that I didn't. In the end, they told me to "stay away from A," and I promised I would. Thank God I had shown up late, otherwise I would have been arrested in front of my classmates- all thanks to a little devil. The end.