Dear Pippa

Part 1- The First Entry

December 27

The name's Pippa. 15 years old, 16 in February. Just taller than average, average build, medium length blonde hair, brown eyes. Basically, just your average teenage girl. On the exterior, that is. Personality wise there is nothing average about me.

Well, for one the whole make-up thing. Girls either love it or hate it. I just couldn't care less. I don't wear any, but not because I don't think I need it, but because I don't care what people think. People can say I'm ugly, people can say I'm gorgeous -which they don't but still- I really don't care. If I like the way I look, then I'm happy. Well mostly. There is this one boy though... I know, so cliché. But as I said earlier I don't care. I'm not bothered whether he thinks I look pretty or not, just that he doesn't think I look slutty or something like that. He is the only thing that makes me like every other average girl.

So this boy. I'm sure you're dying to hear all about this boy. Well. Where do I start? At the beginning, you say. Okay then, at the beginning. I met him almost four years ago now. Year 7. He had come from a neighbouring primary school, before that he had been in New Zealand and before that South Africa. We knew of each other but only started talking towards the end of Year 8, as our groups began to mingle more. Became good friends in Year 9. Then came Year 10. I had a boyfriend from another school when I worked out that I had a crush on him.

I didn't tell anyone about my feelings, not even my best friend, because I was so sure that he would never like me back. We both did police rangers, like scouts, through school. Halfway through the year, we were on a bus, headed for beach volleyball. He asked me to our school dance. I cried. I scared him, he thought that I hated the idea of us ever being anything more than friends. When I could talk properly I said yes. Obviously. He told me afterwards that he had liked me for two years. That just about made me cry even more. He seems to be good at that, making me cry.

So, a couple of days later I broke up with my boyfriend, it had been coming, but he just pushed it along faster. A week after he had asked me to the dance, on August 25, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I believe my exact words were: "Well, what do you think my answer's gonna be?" That was my way of saying: "Yes, yes, yes! Finally! I've been waiting for this, for the past 6 months, why the hell am I gonna say no?"

We shocked most of our grade, when they saw us the next day at school holding hands. It was very entertaining. I remember one girl stopping in her tracks and just staring with her mouth wide open. After they got over the fact of us dating, everyone I talked to would only go on about how much of a cute couple we were. So did most of our teachers. Our English teacher seemed convinced that we were going to get married, which slightly scared me, to be honest.

My best friend even jokingly started planning our wedding. I wasn't worried about her though, as she'd done that with my previous boyfriend. She just loved to tease me. She made the worst ship names ever.

I thought about him way too much, still do. Was he going to like the dress I wanted to buy, would he want to catch up on the weekend, why hadn't he replied to the message I sent him, what was he doing, that sort of thing. I think I did the same thing to his thoughts. We had the most interesting conversations. We have the same opinions on most things, there is only one thing that we really disagree on: religion. You see, he's a Mormon. Me, I'm not anything. I wasn't baptised, christened, or anything, so I literally have no religion. There was nothing in the religion field that we agreed on. I believe that you can believe in whatever you want to believe in, just don't try to make me believe it too. He believes that his religion is "true" and that it can "help people". He tried to make me see "his side", basically that translates to me eventually believing his religion and joining his church. I didn't -don't- want anything to do with churches, to me they are a trap of paying tithes, doing exactly as the church tells you, shoving it down your children's throats from when they are born so they believe it too. To me it is just an endless cycle of money and doing as you are told. He doesn't see it that way, probably never will. He told me that his parents had told him that they either wanted me to convert or for him to find a girl from church. They wanted me to be a "good little Mormon girl". I'm never going to be that girl.

I told him that. I felt that I had to be honest. That, ultimately led to our breakup. December 11th, at school. We agreed that it wasn't going to work. That doesn't mean that it didn't hurt because it did. It felt like I had been punched in the stomach multiple times. I cried. Again. It all happened at lunch, we didn't end up going to class for another 45 minutes because I would just manage to get my emotions in check when he would say something or I would think something and I would be set off again for another round of crying. More like body racking sobs that left me unable to breathe. He just about cried as well, I could see the tears in his eyes, but he wouldn't let them flow, I think because he thought that he had to keep himself together for me.

That was just over two weeks ago. School was so weird, we had agreed to stay friends, there were no questions about that, it just was going to happen. It had gone from us sitting together every lunch and recess to not at all. Class was awkward too, I had sat with him in one of my classes with one of my best friends, we still did, but it wasn't the same. I couldn't hold his hand, or sit slightly too close for our teacher's approval. In English, I used to sit on his desk at the beginning of every class, just to annoy one of our friends. Our teacher told me to move when she wanted to start the class. She told me to stop sitting on him. That was the day after we broke up, so I completely lost it. Asked her if I could be excused from class, sat outside and just balled my eyes out. I got some funny looks when I went back into class. I'm not an attractive crier at the best of times, so I don't even want to know how bad I looked then, or the day before for that matter. There are a lot of people who probably don't know that we aren't together anymore, school finished on the 18th for one and another thing is at our school dramatic breakups are normal. You know, the sort where they blatantly ignore each other and post hate messages about each other all over Facebook, or some other form of social media.

The only problem with all this is if he wasn't religious, I could have seen us together all through the rest of high school, then eventually us getting married, and everything that comes with that. He is my first love. I do love him. I know he loves me too, which in a way makes things even worse. My best friend is certain that we aren't finished yet, that we will have a "sequel" as she put it. I don't know whether we will or not. I guess time will tell.