Falling

Dear Shawn

Dark hair, tattoos, and a man in uniform? Sign me up, please.

As cliche as it sounds Shawn, was my dear John.

We met through a mutual friend, and the electricity there was no denying it. We shared the same interests in music, and he loves sports, which I knew nothing about. He seemed like a real ladies' man but had me wrapped around his fingers. I never really sexted anyone before him, and it was worth it.

Whenever he touched me, sparks went flying, and there was a pull we both couldn't resist. His touch could send chills down my spine alone. When he had his way with me, he'd say, "tell me I'm the only one," as he moved in and out of me. Each time felt like the first time, and it became more intimate and more profound.

He had this hold over me, and he loved that I was only his, just like before.

I stayed with him a few nights, and he would carry me to his room. He knew he couldn't keep his hands off of me and that he had to have me right then. His touch was so gentle, so tender, and made me want more. I knew I was already soaked as he teased me before laying me down. I'm looking into his eyes as he thrusts in and out, making me beg. "Pleaseeee," "pleaseee" he knew he drove me crazy, and he loved it.

"Hey Siri, play Sweet Love by Chris Brown."
That was our song, and I still remember the first time I showed it to him. He knew my love for r&b and I for his of kid Cudi.

There was never a dull moment between us. Sometimes I wouldn't see him due to Navy active duty, but each time I did, it was like Dear John every time. I couldn't get enough of him, and he seemed to feel the same way. He met my best friend Felicia on my birthday and took me to dinner, but of course, our hands couldn't be kept off of each other.

I felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and I could listen to him talk for hours until I fell asleep.

Twitter would soon become less of a safe haven for me. I woke up a few days after my birthday to a bunch of notifications from a girl I never knew. Everything I ever wrote or tweeted to Shawn was liked or retweeted by her. "Do you have to keep sucking his dick for him to keep coming around?" It was a message that followed along with a screenshot of text messages. I remember seeing something on Facebook before this with a similar name, but when I asked then, he said, "that's my ex I told you about; we are just friends." And I was stupid enough to believe it.

But the screenshots revealed him saying he missed what he had with her and wanted to start over.

Broken is how I felt that I let my guard down and trusted someone yet again for the same old story to be put on repeat. Of course, I questioned him, and he knew there was no explanation other than "I'm no good for you, you deserve the world, and I'm an asshole. I'm so sorry, Kayla." But like everything else in my life, it was excuse after excuse.

"Hey Siri, play Little House by Amanda Seyfried."