I stayed in my hometown for a week. One of my birthday presents was a gift card to Nordstrom. I
spent it on a couple of new polo shirts that made me feel a little more confident. Buying new clothes
would always give me a temporary boost of confidence, and I practiced it as if it was a drug.
Before I left for Santa Barbara, I reunited with Philip and Addison after a very long period of not
seeing them. The three of us met up at the Calabasas Commons, and then we went in Philip’s car to
Malibu for a few adventures. We ended up settling down at Starbucks and had a few insightful
conversations. Addison had changed and matured tremendously, and he was no longer associating with
the popular Malibu high school kids. This didn’t change my resentment towards him, and I kept
confronting him the whole time about the insulting way he treated me over a year ago. After a lot of
debating, we agreed to resolve our conflict with each other. This didn’t mean I forgot all of the slights he
dealt to me in the past, however. I never forget. I never forgive. One day I’ll show him how superior I
On the day after I saw Philip and Addison, I went over to James’s house. I hadn’t been there for ages,
and the two of us relived our traditional walks around the Palisades town center, just like old times. It
felt strange and nostalgic to experience it after so long, especially after going through so many changes
in Santa Barbara. I told James about my turmoil of being a twenty-year-old virgin, and my desperate
hope that things will get better once I start my Autumn semester at my new college. I talked about all
the beautiful blonde girls I saw walking around my college, and my deep wish that I will have one day
have one as a girlfriend. James sympathized with me greatly, for he was also going through similar
troubles in life. He seemed glad that I was finally taking some steps to bring changes to my life.
I drove back to Santa Barbara in a slightly better mood than I was in when I left it. I had a month until
the new semester started, and I could use that time to prepare and recuperate. My new housemates
were meant to move into the second bedroom of my apartment on August 5
. I had an anxious feeling
of anticipation for what they will be like.
came quickly, and I prepared myself to be in a pleasant mood to meet them. Their names
were Ryan and Angel, and to my dismay they were of Hispanic race. In addition, the two of them were
already friends with each other, which meant that they could possibly gang up against me if any conflicts
were to arise. They also seemed like rowdy, low-class types. My first impression of them soured me, but
I tried to be pleasant and not show it. The two of them acted cordial to me on the first day, but after
observing them for a bit, I had a bad feeling that they would be trouble to live with… And they were to
be my housemates for a whole year! When I was alone in my room, I panicked to myself at how dire a
situation this was. This was extremely disappointing. I was hoping I would get decent, mature, clean-cut
housemates. Instead I got low-class scum.
On the second day, they started inviting their equally rowdy friends into my apartment, and we
exchanged more small talk. To my indignant surprise, they asked me the question I always dreaded
answering: “Are you a virgin?” I admitted that I was a virgin. I always admitted the truth about this. It
was my life struggle, and I couldn’t lie about such a thing. They then had the audacity to tell me that
they lost their virginity long ago, bragging about all the girls they had slept with. I particularly hated
Angel because of his ugly pig-face. How could such an ugly animal have had sexual experiences with
girls, and yet I haven’t? What was wrong with this world? I got so angry that I went to my room and
punched the wall. They heard me and started laughing. It was almost a repeat of what I experienced
with that black boy named Chance in the old apartment, except this time it was worse because these
were my housemates for the year!
On the day after, I almost got into a physical fight with Angel. The ugly pig kept acting as if girls
thought he was more attractive than me. Hah! I am a beautiful, magnificent gentleman and he is a low-
class, pig-faced thug. I had enough of his cocksure attitude, and I started to call him exactly what he was.
I tried to insult him as much as I could, telling him how superior I am to him, and saying that he was low-
class. He tried to attack me, but Ryan, being the more mellow of the two, held him back. A pity, I was
itching for a chance to hurt that obnoxious little animal. Though I suppose it was for the best… My life
was too important to risk doing anything rash.
In a panic, I immediately called my mother as soon as I could and told her of the dire situation. There
was no way I could live with those two imbeciles for the whole college year. They already ruined my
weekend. My mother agreed that I needed to get out of there, so I went to the leasing office and
explained to the manager everything that happened. He told me that there was another room available
for me to transfer to, but it would cost one hundred more dollars a month, because it was a larger two
bedroom unit and I would only be sharing it with one housemate, who would occupy the other room. I
called my mother and she gave me permission to go through with it. I signed the new lease, arranging to
transfer when the room became available in September. I would have to bear living with them for the
rest of the month until then.
To help get through the month, my mother let me come home every weekend until I was able to
transfer to the new apartment. I would only stay in Santa Barbara during the weekdays, but on those
weekdays Angel and Ryan went out of their way to make my life a living hell. Every time they went out
they kept yelling to me how they’re going to sleep with hot girls that night. I knew they were just lying to
make me jealous. They always made fun of me for being a virgin. At night, they frequently made noise to
wake me up. I was literally being bullied, and it was truly horrific. I wanted to kill them both, but of
course I was smart enough not to go through with that desire. All I could do was remember every single
insult, so I can get revenge in a more efficient way in the future. That is who I am. I don’t act stupidly or
rashly. I remember every insult, and I wait until the time is right to strike. When that time comes, I will
crush all of my enemies in the most devastating and catastrophic way possible, and the results will be
On one of the weekends in which I went home during August, my mother moved out of the Versailles
apartment complex, and moved into the Summit Townhomes, near Warner Center. It was an abrupt
decision to move there. I helped her pack everything and watched as the movers transported all of our
belongings to the new place. The Summit was much nicer looking than her old apartment; I’ll say that
for it. It was a townhome with an upstairs room that I would occupy whenever I visit home.
I was glad that she moved to a better place, but I would have much rather she got married to a
wealthy man and moved into his mansion. Even though she was no longer seeing Jack, she dated other
men of high class. She had a special way of charming them. I continued to pester her to get married so
that I can be part of an upper class family and enjoy all the benefits that would come with that, but she
always refused, claiming that she never wants to get married due to her unpleasant experiences with
my father. I told her that she should suffer through any negative aspects of marriage just for my sake,
because it would completely save my life, but she still refused.
I went over to James’s house during my visit home. The two of us chatted online a lot, and when I
told him that I was in town, he seemed eager to see me. I was eager to see him too, as he was my
closest friend and I had a lot to talk to him about. I drove up Topanga Canyon to his house, not knowing
that it will be the last time I ever visit him.
The two of us did what we usually did. We walked out to the Palisade’s Bluff’s where we discussed
our hopes and dreams. We then went to the Palisades town center to have dinner. This time we chose
to eat at Panda Express. While we were eating, some high school kids walked in. James saw them first,
and right when he saw them he said the words “We’re fucked”. James knew I would have trouble with
them. They were popular boys who had a flock of pretty girls with them. One of them sat down with two
of the girls, putting his leg up on another chair with a cocky smirk on his face. I was livid with rage, and I
wanted to pour my drink all over his head. James knew exactly what I was planning to do; we had been
through similar incidents before. He made a lot of effort to try to dissuade me from acting on my anger,
pointing out that there was a security guard nearby. I did the only other thing I could do; I packed up my
dinner and left the restaurant, fleeing in defeat and shame. James soon followed, and we decided to
finish our meal at his house.
A dark and ominous aura clouded over our friendship that day. When the two of us got back to
James’s house, I was still seething with rage. I didn’t understand why James wasn’t angry like me. The
sight that we just witnessed was horrible to watch. To see another male be successful with females is
torture for males like us who have no success with females. I was so angry that I told James of all of the
acts of revenge I wanted to exact on those popular boys. I told him my desire to flay them alive, to strip
the skins off their flesh and make them scream in agony as punishment for living a better life than me.
James became deeply disturbed by my anger. I wished that he wasn’t disturbed. I wished he could be a
friend that felt the same way about the world that I did. But he wasn’t that kind of person. He was a
Once I had calmed down, the two of us had a long conversation in his room, and I ended up crying in
front of him as I explained how hopeless I felt about life. Soon after that, I left his house, never to return
there again. He will never invite me over after that incident, and our friendship will slowly fade to dust.
During the last few days that I had to endure living with those barbaric housemates, I often walked
out to Isla Vista hoping that I could meet a girl and take her home with me. I wanted to prove to them all
that girls liked me, to see the look on their faces when they see a girl by my side. But of course, I had
nothing to prove because girls didn’t like me. Every time I tried to go out and meet a girl, I ended up
walking home alone in anger. On one of these nights, I crossed paths with a boy who was walking with
two pretty girls. I got so envious that I cursed at them, and then I followed them for a few minutes. They
just laughed at me, and one of the girls kissed the boy on the lips. I’m assuming she was his girlfriend.
That was one of the worst experiences of torture from girls that I’ve had to endure, and it will be a scar
in my memory forever, to remind me that girls think I’m unworthy compared to other boys. I ran home
with tears pouring down my cheeks, hoping that my horrible housemates wouldn’t be there to witness
I tried to spark a positive attitude on the first day of my Autumn semester at Santa Barbara City
College. I was registered for three classes; history, astronomy, and math. My history and astronomy
classes were in the morning, and my math class was late in the afternoon, so on school days I had to
spend the entire day at the college. I figured this would be beneficial, because it would keep me out of
my room and in a place where possible opportunities might come my way. I had to wait a couple of
hours before my math class started, and I spent those hours roaming around the college or sitting in the
library, looking at all of the hot girls and wishing I could have one as a girlfriend. I was like a starving man
surrounded by a feast that I was prohibited to eat.
All of my classes left me feeling hopeless and depressed. Not only was I unable to meet any girls, and
there were a lot of pretty ones, but I also had a hard time making any friends. I’ve always had a hard
time making friends… I’m not the type of person that can fit in with a group of outgoing people; the last
time I did such a thing was when I was twelve. I had to make friends. Having a social circle will provide
me with more opportunities to meet girls, and it was the only way to get invited to all of those exciting
college parties. But no one even wanted to be my friend. I actually tried to initiate small talk with guys
who sat next to me, but it never went far. I had a horrible feeling that I was in for a very miserable time
in Santa Barbara.
I did make one friend through spending time in my apartment’s courtyard. This friend’s name was
Andy Chan; he was a foreign student from China. Andy shared the same eagerness as I did to experience
college life in Isla Vista to the fullest; and unlike most people my age, I found him to have some
intelligence and substance. The two of us walked out to Del Playa Street in Isla Vista a few times, the
place where all the parties happen, but nothing ever came of it. I still felt like an outcast, even though I
had a friend with me; and I still felt inferior compared to all of those guys who walked around with
On September 5
, I was finally able to move into my new permanent apartment unit. I felt relieved
that I would never have to deal with the likes of Ryan and Angel ever again, though I did worry that I will
eventually run into them again because my new unit was still in the same apartment complex. Once I
was given the keys, I quickly transported all of my belongings to the new place. I was supposed to have
only one housemate who would live in the other room of the unit, but he hadn’t moved in yet. I had no
idea who my new housemate would be, but I was told that he was an older student who attended the
University. That knowledge made me feel assured that he would be tolerable to live with. He was set to
arrive in two weeks, so I had the place to myself until then.
I unpacked all of my things and set up my new room. Once I was done, I looked at it and thought to
myself that this was it; this was my new living place in the college town of Isla Vista, and if I could finally
have the life I wanted, then this may well be the room where I lose my virginity! How wrong I was. It
would only be another room where I suffer miserable loneliness. No girl will ever step foot in it.
Santa Barbara was not going well for me. I was already months into my twentieth year and I had
nothing to show for it. As I spent the first weeks of September in my new room, all alone, I fully realized
how much I was failing at life. Santa Barbara was supposed to be a place of hope, a place where I could
start a new, happy life. I couldn’t believe how wrong everything was turning out. Instead of finally
getting a chance to live a life of sex and love like other young people did, I only experienced worse
rejection and humiliation than I had ever experienced before. This was unbelievable and unforgivable. If
humanity continued to insult me with such cruelty, then there really was no hope for happiness in my
At Santa Barbara City College, I had exactly the same experience that I had at Moorpark. I had to
watch beautiful young people enjoying their lives together as I languished in loneliness and despair,
because no one accepted me. I dropped my math class – I just couldn’t bear having to be at the college
all day long, sitting in the library watching couples kiss each other. I retained my two morning classes
only because there was still some small inkling of desperate home inside me.
My usual day went as follows: I woke up alone in my bed, with no girl beside me, and did a few
minutes of exercise before I showered and got ready for college; I then drove to Starbucks to have my
morning latte and felt envious whenever I saw a young couple there; I would then attend my two classes
where no one said a word to me, having to endure the torment of watching other guys talking to the
girls I liked; And then I would go home alone, open the door to my lonely room, and feel absolutely
miserable. The loneliness was suffocating. I could barely breathe. If only one pretty girl had at least
given me a chance and tried to get to know me, everything would have turned out differently, but girls
continued to treat me with disdain.
The loneliness was torturing me so intensely that I even started up my WoW account and played the
game constantly for the month of September. James still played WoW, and the two of us played
together online for a few days, but he treated me very coldly the whole time. I could tell that the kind of
friendship we had for so many years no longer existed. That last incident in the Palisades stabbed our
friendship deeply, and it was in the process of bleeding away. At the time, I felt offended by his attitude
towards me, so I called him out on it. This sparked a long argument between us that resulted in James
refusing to talk to me online anymore. A few days after that, I deactivated my account again.
My new housemate arrived in the middle of September. His name was Spencer Horowitz; a short,
chubby UCSB student who was about a year older than me. He seemed like a friendly, mature sort of
person; definitely a pleasant contrast from the housemates I had to suffer through in the previous
month. I didn’t expect to have any problems with him. However, I was a disappointed due to the fact
that I was hoping my new housemate would be someone I could relate to… someone who could be my
friend and help me integrate with the social life in Santa Barbara. I didn’t see Spencer as the type of
person I would become friends with. We could get along, but we had nothing in common.
In addition, I was a bit shocked when Spencer told me that he used to have a girlfriend. It was a
casual comment that came out of a conversation we had. I didn’t understand how a chubby and
unattractive guy like Spencer would have been able to get a girlfriend, while I’ve never had the chance
to. The guy was three inches shorter than me, and even I am considered short for my age. I could not
fathom how such a thing was possible, and I concluded to myself that this former “girlfriend” of his that
he mentioned must have been just as unattractive as he was. There was no need for me to be jealous.
After a few weeks of living with him, I realized that I had a psychological problem with his presence in
my apartment. Even though there was no trouble between us, I hated having someone constantly in my
vicinity to judge how pathetic my life was. I could hide the details of my lonely, celibate life from the rest
of the world, but I could not hide it from Spencer. The fact that I never had any girls over to my room
was clear enough that I was an undesirable outcast, and I hated it when people knew this about me and
judged me for it. Spencer was there to witness it all, and I would eventually come to hate him just
because of that.