A Loathing Despair.

So here's a fact of my life. I am frigid, full stop. I have spend sixteen of my sixteen years and three months of existence being antisocial and therefore not feeling the need to socialise. I have also been dating my boyfriend, my first boyfriend, for over nine months. Through this time we have only just kissed (October first, over eight months after we began our relationship - no, its not him. Its me) and I have only just started allowing him to hug me. And here's the key line: somehow, just somehow

My mother thinks we're sleeping together. 

Am I annoyed? Yes, yes I am.  I just spent ten minutes listening to her rant at me (no, not to me, at me) about the fifty billion reasons why will not be able to have him over for NYE. Generally I avoid such situations because I am a rather haplessly awkward person, however just this once, I ask (please note, the offer for him to stay over was placed at the beginning of our relationship) and what do I get? The connotations that I sleep around. 

I think what hurts the most is that I generally tell my mother most things, thus I tell her 99% more than anyone else I know, but she still doesn't seem to grasp that trust. It feels like betrayal or a punch in the gut or vehement emotion that renders you useless but to fume silently and wish for destruction. 

I loathe this feeling and to be honest, right now I loathe her.