The Sophmore

September - October

I met a boy. Let's call him Bryan for now. 

He was dark, he was brooding, he was... hard to describe. 

I got caught up in him, but it was a big mistake.

He used me.

He made me feel happy, I suppose, but he never understood me. He was a nazi, in fact. He was a racist, and he was so rude. What attracted me to him I'll never know. 

I spent a month with him before I realised I needed out. 

I also began spending more and more time with Tyson. He walked me home every day, and we talked about nothing, and everything all at once. This is where I realised something inside me wanted him. 

Tyson was 17 at the time and I was 15. 

I know the stereotype about senior boys:

"They only want sex"

He was different. He was everything. 

He told me many times he'd look out for me, and that it was his job to protect me. I loved him for it, and he loved me. We were "thick as theives", you could say. 

Tyson had an ex girlfriend back home. Let's call her "Morgan."

Morgan used him. She got him hooked like heroin, she kept him hanging on by a thread. He loved her more than anything in the world. He loved everything about her, no matter how hard he tried not to. All she'd have to say was "hello" after the longest time of silence and she'd have him hooked again. 

This tortured me to no end.