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Warning: Topics discussed in this column are (most likely) chock full of sex, lust and all of that other good stuff that makes life somewhat interesting. I mean, this is a sex advice column, isn't it? If you are easily offended or under 18, please click that little back arrow on your browser's toolbar, go back to the table of contents and pick another section (which will probably offend you anyway).

Hi Alla -

I'm a twenty-two year old student at a university in New England, and as clichéd as it sounds, I didn't think sort of thing could happen to me.

I'm in a ten-month-old relationship - I have no idea where it's going. Heather was introduced to me early on last year by our mutual friend Alicia; they'd gone to the same college in Massachusetts, I'd known Alicia longer, I'd *slept with Alicia* but it was one of those things we'd both realized afterwards, with some considerable embarrassment, would never work as a relationship. Heather had known about me as one of Alicia's conquests; I'd known about Heather as someone who sat next to Alicia whenever she checked her email or jumped on IRC.

Heather was working for a graphic design company in MA, and we were both racking up considerable phone bills talking to one another every night or every other night. She'd graduated a few years previous, and had a lot more flexibility with bill payment. One of us would drive to see the other on weekends - she'd come down to the apartment flat I was first sharing with two other people, I'd drive up to MA to the apartment that she shared with her own creep-ass roommate and her cat. So, it was sweet for a while.

Things started getting uncomfortable about three months into the relationship. She'd always told me that her previous relationship was a nightmare, that she'd never be involved with the guy again, that they weren't good together but they were okay as friends. She and her ex-boyfriend, who now lived in Arizona, still talked, and sometimes he'd call while I was over her place, and they'd talk while I was doing my classwork.

Heather knew I had a lot of female friends, myself - hadn't dated any of them, but these were women I knew from classes, the campus radio station, co-workers, and when she visited my campus, sometimes one of my friends would walk over to meet us and give me a hug. I mean, it was understood that I was not under consideration for sexual involvement with any of my friends, but Heather always blew up at me afterwards, saying that it was inappropriate, and I shouldn't be doing that, and how horrible I was.

(I'd met some of her male friends from work before she started visiting. They got hugs from her.)

So Heather really started to work me over, and before I realized it, I was getting alienated from my friends - both female and male.

So one week, Heather tells me that her ex has invited her to visit him in Arizona. I'm not supposed to worry, they're still friends, nothing will happen. I trusted her.

Heather was visiting the next weekend. It was actually a beautiful Saturday, and my housemates were gone. She sometimes initiates sex, but this time she damn near tore my clothes off -- so, yeah, it was kind of sweet.

However, I don't think that the two-hours-afterwards, while you're still in bed with your girlfriend, is the right time for her to tell you that when she was out there, she slept with her ex. Nor is it effective for her to try and kiss-and-make-better with more sex.

Things really only deteriorated from there. My housemates (now four - place is getting cramped) loved her, thought she was great. She was perfectly able to be social with them on "Frasier" night while I was stuck in my room, slamming out code and studying for exams. (My last few semesters are on my wallet so far as tuition - means I can take summer and winter courses too - while my parents drop money into my account for the rent, which started out as $700 split three ways.) The condition of the apartment is deteriorating as well - my housemates don't give a damn about cleaning anything up, including the food stuck to the plates that I contributed to the household that find themselves getting stacked up next to the easy chair where one unemployed housemate plays Playstation all day.

Heather then told me that she'd had it with her job, and wanted to find work in CT, so she'd quit working for the graphic designers in MA, and was moving in with me. All she needed was for me to help her out for a while and put her up while she found work and a place to live - and that I'd be able to move in with her when she did.

That was four months ago. My clothes have been squeezed out of my own closet, and the arguments come a lot more frequently now. My housemates openly deride me for being such an asshole when Heather loves me so much. Heather has been doing temp work, and only temp work, because it's so hard to try and get interviews right now. And I've recently learned that when the arguments get heated and Heather doesn't have anything to say in her defense, she lashes out with her fists.

It used to be sweet. I swear to God, it did. I've tried to be accommodating, I've tried to be a good boyfriend. I have to graduate this semester. I had a semester of co-op, but that really isn't helping me get work, or even offers of work, and I'm running out of time. My parents are cutting off my funds for rent, and I don't even have a car to get to interviews. My grades are suffering. I can't turn to any of my friends, I don't have any money to try and find at least temporary lodging elsewhere, the academic departments are sick of seeing me. I'm out of options. I don't know how I can trust Heather - we fight, and it's gotten so bad that now I fucking crawl to her for forgiveness, and she kisses-and-tries-to-make-better. I don't know if I'm just being short-sighted and selfish, like everyone here's been telling me for so long. I swear to God, I want to die. Where the hell do I go from here?

Don't print my name or my email address - She's always using my computer, and I've caught her reading through my email and the sites I've visited before, and screamed at me for my past girlfriends and my female friends when I've tried to call her on it. I'm going to conceal my tracks as best as I can. I feel like the only people I can trust are the ones I've never met.

Dear Nightmare:

Go to eBay.com and buy yourself a set of balls. You are obviously in desperate need of a pair.

First question I have for you, pal: What was your relationship like with Alicia? Were you this whipped with her? Perhaps it was because of your obvious lack of a spine with Alicia that Heather realized she could take complete advantage of you. Think back further ... have all the significant women in your life stepped on you?

Ya know, you strike me as someone who could never please his Mommy. You probably tried really, really hard - "Look, Ma, I got an A!" - but she only showed passive interest in your achievements. Mr. Teacher's Pet in every class, making the grades but losing friends to the almighty goal of making the number one woman in your life happy - dear ol' mom.

Grow up. Fast. Before Heather gets tired of ripping into you privately, and takes her harassment to a public level. Imagine the shame of being bitch slapped by your girlfriend in front of your male buddies.

Unless you go in for that sort of thing ... in which case, check out some BDSM sites and find a way to be happy with your perversion.

But if you *really* want to get away from the bitch, you have two options as I see it. Both include the need for you to accept this simple fact: Your roommates aren't you. They don't know what you know, they haven't seen Heather in the ways you've seen her. Do NOT listen to them under any circumstances.

Accept it? Really?? You won't be bothered when they tell you you're an asshole and they're never speaking to you again because you've told Heather to move out? 'Cause you gotta do it, hon. Throw her clothes and other crap out on the street if you have to, just make sure she's gets the idea she's no longer welcome in your life or your home. Don't let that pang of guilt you're feeling sink in too deep - she'll be in top form by that evening, looking for a new jellyfish to move in with and take advantage of. Little Heather will never be homeless.

Now, with that rush of power that will come from kicking your nightmare out of your life, wash the dishes. All of them. While they're drying, go out and buy a thick, black, permanent marker. When you get back, write your name on the dishes (on the back - don't want you getting poisoned, now). Stack them neatly in a cabinet. I imagine at this point your roomies will be a little wary of you. Look them all squarely in the eye. Look a little crazed (won't take much effort). Tell them you'll kill the next person who so much as looks at your dishes the wrong way. Growl a little. Foam at the mouth.

Sooner or later, life should get back to normal. You'll get out of college and meet the girl of your dreams, leaving these memories far behind. Just always remember that if a chick has the nerve to tell you she's cheated on you *while* she's lying in post-coital bliss next to you, dump her ass right then and there. Don't even wait to get dressed to do it.

Easy way to get Heather out, huh? The only way this plan might backfire, however, is if your roomies band together and vote to keep Heather and kick your sorry butt out. That would be bad.

So ... the only other solution I see for you, my friend, is if you run away. Run back home to Mommy, if need be. Run to a cousin, an aunt, a freaky escaped-convict grandfather, even. Preferably make this run across state lines. Put as much distance between you and the bitch as possible. Transfer your grades to another college, and graduate with your sanity intact.

Whatever you decide, it will be a major life decision. You'll look back and wonder if you did the right thing for the rest of your life. Just trust yourself. And go for it. NOW.

Alla :)