Part 6: 20 Years Old

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. 

     August 5


 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

my shame.


     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

beautiful girls.


     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.

blog comments powered by Disqus