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I'D SWORN OFF of meaningless hookups after dropping out of college.
And then Zoë came back into my life and fucked everything up.
Back in the day, I only got with random girls I met at parties because I'd been feening for any sort of company during nights I felt so fucking lonely. It felt like a disease, loneliness. I don't know why I had it so bad or why it affected me that much, but it fucking did and it made me do stupid shit like sleep around to numb the pain I was in.
I stopped doing it when I realized numbing the pain just made it so much worse once I woke up and realized I was alone again. That the girl I hooked up with already had a boyfriend she was cheating on with a different person every weekend or that she wasn't looking for anything serious right now and just wanted to get her body count up for the hell of it or that once she sobered up, she was actually hella annoying and made me wanna scratch my eyes out and regret ever sleeping with her . . .
This was something I always did. Regret it. Regret them and how I'd used them to numb something that was never going away. I'm a dramatic bitch, I know, but I'm definitely gonna be alone forever. I've been with too many girls and had it never work out to believe in shit like having a soulmate.
Then I'd finally fucked Zoë. Multiple times. And she got my hopes up. Even though I knew she was only staying in Austin until her chem class ended and that she'd just gotten out of a relationship and was probably rebounding with me, I got my fucking hopes up because of stupid shit like hearing her call me 'baby' like she meant it and waking up to me cuddling her and not immediately pushing me off her.
I'd nearly stopped breathing when she'd told me that she might've had a crush on me when we were in high school. The elated happiness I felt hearing her confession didn't last long since five minutes later, she was telling me that 'I was only good for fucking'.
The worst part was she didn't even know. She didn't even know her words had felt like a knife ripping through my chest because she'd been smiling over at me smugly when she'd spoken them. I could tell her intentions were just to tease me, not to hurt me. It was all just a game to her and I knew I couldn't blame her for this since I'd been toying with her in that exact same way ever since she moved into my dad's place.
But her words were fucking cruel, and I knew there was some truth to them. I'm not stupid Pinterest-boyfriend material and that's what her high majesty, Zoë Alstridge, wants. A good guy. Without insecurities that always fuck up his relationships and rejection anxiety that makes him come off as an asshole.
