The Painful and Bittersweet Sojourn into Becoming a Young Adult

Lord Long Rod

Diamond Member
Jan 17, 2023
I remember those painful days of adolescence like they were yesterday. I was like any other kid, I guess: a little shy, a little brazen at times, and desperately trying to figure out who I was. But for the most part I just wanted to be invisible. Having attention drawn to me was the worst possible thing that could happen, I thought. So I avoided it at any cost.

It did not help matters that my family was always moving from town to town for my dad’s job. We would stay in a particular city just long enough for me to start to make friends and gain some amount of comfort. Then we would move again.

When I was a freshman in high school we moved to a little town in Georgia. The culture in this particular school was rather hard on me. But I was a big kid. So rarely did anything get out of hand. If it did I usually picked out one of the kids in the cool clique and beat his ass. I did this partially to get the kids off my back; partially out of anger for being the outside kid; and, I think, to push others away so I could have my space.

I always ate lunch alone, sitting by myself at some little table far away from everybody else. I rarely said a word to anyone. Looking back I think I suffered from profound loneliness. But back then it was easy to conflate my feelings and allow them to develop into anger. I was deeply alone, and I convinced myself I liked it that way.

My dad passed away from a heart attack in the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in high school. My mother had a job and was able to support the two of us, though money was a lot tighter without two incomes. It also meant that we would not be moving anytime soon. So I returned to the same high school for my sophomore year.

That year was tough for me. My grades were ok. But I still suffered from acute social isolation. The only thing that really brought me any pleasure was baseball. I followed pro ball intensely. I was also a pretty good baseball player. I thought about trying out for the school team. I was sure I could make the cut. But something kept holding me back. The social aspect of it just caused me too much anxiety to the point I could not stomach it.

There was a girl in a couple of my classes this year that I had never noticed in my freshman year. Her name was Allison. One day during lunch I was sitting by myself as usual, lost in my wandering thoughts that I relied on to get me through the day. All of a sudden, there she was. She sat down at my table across from, smiled, and asked if she could sit with me. I nodded yes.

I was immediately baffled, as I could not fathom what force of nature sent her my way. I was defensive at first. Why did she want to sit with me? Did she really want to be seen with me? I figured it must be some sort of goof.

She started asking me all sorts of questions. Did I like school? Did I have a girlfriend? What kind of music did I like? She seemed interested in me. But I was not convinced. Then I noticed that a couple tables away was a group of girls I recognized as Allison’s friends. They were looking at us and laughing. Then abruptly, Allison got up, said goodbye, and went over to her friends’ table, where they giggled and kept glancing back at me.

I thought “what a fucking bitch. Fuck them all”, then became lost in my thoughts again. They were fucking with me and I did not like it. But that was not the end of it. Allison made it a point of coming up to me out of the blue and talking to me, sometimes with her dopey friends tagging along, and sometimes not. She even started flirting with me. I knew she was fucking with me. But at the same time I kind of enjoyed the attention. If nothing else, it broke up the monotony of high school.

Later in the year I turned 16 and got my drivers license. My mom even got me an old pickup truck to drive. I started driving myself to school. I even got an after school job and started earning a little money. Driving was empowering. It also meant I was growing up and getting closer to getting out of this hell.

One day in study hall Allison popped down in a chair next to me and started asking me about driving and getting my license. She was not quite 16 yet and seemed genuinely interested. I offered to drive her home after school. She agreed, but only if I would take one of her friend’s with her. I told her I would.

By the end of my sophomore year Allison and I were dating. She was my first girlfriend. She was, in fact, many “firsts” for me. We grew very close. We became each other’s best friend. I even started to tolerate and become friends with her stupid girlfriends. I treated her like a princess, and she treated me with kindness and respect. We even went to our junior and senior proms together. She really pulled me out of my shell. We became inseparable, and everyone knew us as “Bud and Allison”.

After we graduated, Allison went to a state college in Atlanta while I went to a smaller college about an hour north of her. But we still lived in the same neighborhood and saw each other every day. Eventually we got an apartment together. Her parents and my mother understood but were not exactly happy about it. They were from another time and considered living together outside of marriage to be improper.

By our junior years in college we were already making plans for the future. We would each take jobs in our chosen fields, and we would get married. Married ... at 22, and starting our lives together. It seems like pretty heavy stuff to me. But I could think of nobody else with whom I would rather share my life.

I had already developed a keen interest in Sasquatch by this time. Allison thought it was a little silly, but she would not say so. She just left it alone and let me have my “fun”, as she put it. We would sometimes go on camping trips together on the weekends, to the deepest woods I could find. She enjoyed the outdoors as much as I did. I even got her to take up fly fishing with me!

But Sasquatch is always where she drew the line. I have always been an outdoorsman, since I was a kid. Dad would take me fishing and hunting all the time. In fact, it was while dad and I were on a camping/fishing trip that I first learned about Sasquatch.

We were sitting up late one night, sitting by the campfire. We started hearing wood knocks. Dad asked “did you hear that?” right after every knock. I started getting nervous because I was young and it was dark. I asked him what the noise was. He told me that it was how Sasquatch communicates with each other in the woods. We sat there in those dark woods until 2 in the morning listening to no less than 3 Sasquatch do wood knocks to each other.

I immersed myself in the subject after that. I learned all I could. I wanted to see one but dad always said that would be too dangerous. As I grew older and entered adolescence my interest waned. But then, after dad died, and after I met Allison and had my confidence restored, my interest in the subject caught fire again. Maybe it made me feel closer to dad. I don’t know.

I encountered my first Sasquatch when I was 20. I left Allison at the flat studying for finals while I went on an overnight fishing trip in the north Georgia mountains. I was wading in a remote stretch of creek fly fishing for trout when an eerie feeling crept over me. I turned to look behind me just in time to see one of these creatures cross the creek I was fishing in one step. The size of the beast was unsettling. It was absolutely HUGE! More unsettling was that it crossed the creek then disappeared. There I was. Standing there in the creek, in the middle of nowhere, alone with a menacingly huge Sasquatch. I high tailed it out of there.

I did not tell Allison about my encounter. It was a life altering event, to be sure. But I knew if I told Allison she would think I was crazy. She certainly would not want me going on any of my fishing trips anymore. So I remained silent.

I continued going to the mountains to investigate Sasquatch. My cover was always that I was going on fishing trips. The fact was that after my sighting I became a little bit obsessed.

By the end of our senior years in college I had 3 more visual encounters with Sasquatch in those north Georgia mountains. I believe that 2 of those additional encounters were with the same Bigfoot I initially saw. That animal was non-threatening despite its huge size. It seemed more curious than anything else. The other Sasquatch was different. It was menacing. It stalked and harassed me all weekend, then finally bluff charged me twice on my hike out of the area.

As Allison and I exchanged our thoughts about our future together after graduation, she started to become a little agitated by my now weekly “fishing trips” to the mountains. She felt like we ought to be spending more time together.

At first it was not a big deal. It is, after all, a quite common thing for a woman to complain about her man going fishing all the time. When I mentioned this to Allison she countered that such was usually the case with married couples who had been together for years, and not 20-something year olds just starting out their lives together.

Then things got worse. Allison found the photographs I had hidden under our bed. “Bud, what are these?!? These things in the photographs ... they look like ... APES!” I confessed that I had taken the photos on my fishing trips.

Allison immediately freaked out when she learned I was having encounters with Sasquatch. In fact, she laid down the law and said she never wanted me to go back to those mountains. She was afraid I was in danger. When I tried to defend myself she asked whether I was going up there JUST to see Sasquatch. I convinced her that they were just “incidental” encounters.

The shit finally hit the fan the weekend following graduation. I had been out of the woods for over a month and I was agitated. We had a little fight and I stormed off in a huff. While I was gone she decided to start cleaning out our closets since we would be moving soon. That is when she found my cache of weapons. The .50 BMG, my AR10, my .45-70, my .480 Ruger revolver, my 2 .50 AE Desert Eagles, my AKM, my AR-74 with the extra hole, my .357 magnum, my 10mm Glock, my slug gun, and boxes of ammo for each. She also found some of my squatching gear.

The guns really pissed off Allison. She is a liberal gun-control advocate. I tried to convince her it was ok; these guns were strictly for Bigfoot hunting. Of course, by telling her this I was essentially admitting that I had been lying to her. I was going to the mountains to see Sasquatch behind her back.

Allison told me she felt betrayed. I was doing secret stuff. I was not telling her what I was really doing in the mountains. She said she felt like she did not know me anymore. Not only was I putting myself in danger, and thereby jeopardizing our future together, but I was actively trying to hunt and kill one of these monsters. She was inconsolable.

I packed up all my guns, ammo, and other gear and left that night. I had already stolen her credit card to buy some night vision optics. So I just went ahead and used her card to pay for a week at a nice hotel while I figured out what to do.

Allison called me 2 days later and said she wanted to talk. I met her the next day at the apartment. Her eyes appeared red from crying. I could hardly stand it. It pained me greatly to see her in pain from a broken heart, especially since it was my fault. I told her I understood why we could not be together anymore. Allison looked at me with a shocked expression on her face. “I was thinking we could try couple’s counseling and try to work through this”, she said.

I was heartened that even after my betrayal this beautiful and dynamic, sweet young woman still wanted to be with me. But the fact was, my heart now belonged to another. I said “Allison, baby, couple’s counseling ... it just won’t work, honey. I have already planned a month long hunt up in the Cohutta Wilderness Area. But, I mean, if you want to schedule something for the following month, then I will see if I can squeeze it in.”

Allison just put her face in her her hands and cried. At that point I decided I needed to hit the old dusty trail. I gave Allison back her maxed out credit card. Just to show that I was acting in good faith, I also told her I drained her bank account for ammo and cocaine.

I never saw or heard from Allison after that. It’s too bad too because she was a good girl. I had a real keeper there, I thought. But, then again, there was the undeniable truth that if she was not going to accept my Sasquatch lifestyle, then we were not going to work. We simply grew apart. As Peter Steele said, “There is nothing so cruel as the truth”.

In hindsight I know I made the right decision. Being a Sasquatch widow is no life for a good woman. It is not fair to them. That is why I stick to whores and bar skanks. You are either a Sasquatch man or a cuck. There is no middle ground.
I kinda skipped my adolescence. By the time I was in middle school I preferred to hang out with the adults rather than my peers. That’s probably why I never got into any of the unpleasant issues so many adolescents do (drugs, alcohol, tobacco, crime, sex, etc…).

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