Mild Profanity
(For privacy reasons, I'll keep calling my ex Xay, as that it is not his real name)
After I broke up with Xay, I couldn't help but feeling proud. I mean, for once in my life I had taken the initiative. Instead of waiting for him to break up with me, I finally realized what was wrong, and finally saw that the problem wasn't me.
You see, he always would tell me he loved me, and in his own way, he did. But when he loved me was circumstantial, especially around his friends. When his friends found out, things took a more... racist turn.
Xay is your typical white boy from a small town. Plays football, lots of friends, and a broken family. The problem with me being his girlfriend is the fact that I'm biracial. African-American, White, and Native American little ol' me. That "black chic", as his friends would call me. Not only were they racist, but so was his stepdad. I couldn't even catch a break!
But the reason I broke up with him because he didn't stick up for me when they were shit-talking me behind my back. When I found out, I was extremely upset. This is my exaggerated reaction:
BITCH I'M YOUR GIRL IF YOU'RE FRIENDS CAN'T SEE THAT THEN FUCK EM'! AND ALSO WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING YOU SON OF A MOTHER FLOWER.
(My favorite swearing filter)_
I think that's enough trauma sharing for now. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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A Boy Named Xay: A True Story of the One That I Used to Love
شِعرThis is a poem I wrote about my ex around the time we started dating. This is also before he became a narcissist. Just so the poem would rhyme, his name is "Xay". Enjoy!
