terrify me

ever since i've met 'joe', everything has become the opposite of what it was meant to be.
i'll start this entry with the story behind the story of the night we met.
on christmas eve i told jordan (yes, i typed his actual name) that i still loved him. this was following a period of about a week, where every time we made love we stared at each other almost daring the other to say the words. neither of us did though. i've never known such intensity as that. we were terrified of falling into the trap we thought we'd ran so far away from. but it was right behind us the whole time.
that was the last time we could pretend sex meant nothing. up until then we'd allowed ourselves to think that sex didn't need love to feel good, but the only reason we were still having sex was because it still felt good, because we still loved each other. if i hadn't said those words on christmas eve, i doubt either of us ever would have. perhaps we'd still be 'fuck buddies' now, still in love, only petrified to tell the truth.
after that night he didn't speak to me for about a week. when i rang him on new years eve, asking to see him one last time before the year was over, the year he saved me and loved me, he said no.
that night i met 'joe', and he met 'grace'. how ironic.
from that night onwards, i've never really felt the same way about jordan. i kind of got over him, mainly due to the string of boys i had on the go at the time. 'joe', obviously, 'beau', steve (once), b, mark, milli; i dated them all. and i made it clear to them all that i wanted to be single, and that i had plans with other boys every other night. 'joe' was the only person i made love to during that time though. i am not, was not and never will be a slut.
i didn't bother ringing jordan after he said he didn't want to see me on the last night of the year. when i was on a date with 'joe', he rang me. it was like an interrogation; he wanted to know where i'd been, who i'd been with, what i'd done.
and i told him. i told him everything, sitting there in a taxi next to another man. he called me a whore, and i said that was his opinion. he said i was a liar, how could i love him and sleep with a man i'd met just hours earlier? but who am i with now, jordan? i'm still with that stranger five months later. and you're happy with 'grace'. a happy ending, don't you agree?
i think i'll end up marrying 'joe'. i really do. i don't think i'll end up going to sixth form, instead i think i'll have a baby, get a normal job, have a group of friends in the same situation, live in place just like washington. and 'joe' will think i'm happy. my god that terrifies me.
what about my languages degree, or my masters in psychology? what about paris and prague and croatia? what about the shell necklace made from shells from all the beaches i've been to? what about my apartment overlooking the ocean? what about the expensive dresses my rich admirer asks me to wear for the evening balls at the fancy places? and what about the book i was going to publish? the book 'joe' doesn't even know exists. just like he doesn't know any of these dreams exist.
who am i kidding? i'll get pregnant at 16, and be on the dole for the rest of my life.
the reason i hate him so much sometimes is because he's forcing me to realise this. that hate is what's stopping me from loving him with all my heart. it'll never go away, just like he won't. i'll live the rest of my life wholly unsatisfied and never complain.
i just know it.