Gradually as i get older i feel the toughness condensing in my brain, thoughts flowing left, right and centre, like a lost snail in a forest trying to find his way out with so many rocks in his way. People all ways say the mentally concerning have a trigger for their illness to trap them, and mine was a boy. You know that feeling when you find love for the first time but your not sure if its real until you loose them, yes well thats my trigger. Confusing right? How can this affect someone so badly if the quote "there are so many fish in the sea" is determined to be correct. However I've always know I've had problems, which haven't been identified but this was the last break of it all. This love wasn't any ordinary love and the break up wasn't basic, it was most extreme possible thing like terrorist on your mind bombing particular soft spots that make you break down and cry for no reason.
Fair enough my sensitive part in me is my emotions, which people manipulate the most. But why is it that the kindest people are the ones who cry before they go asleep, self harm and take extreme amounts of drugs so they can stop thinking about how they feel
Im going to tell you this quick , so his name was dean; the first boy to do anything with me, from loosing my virginity to breaking my heart. Socially young girls fall inlove and betray them self as easy, as deans words evolve from your brain pushing you to do stuff that you will regret.
If he betrays your love but you still want him, you still need him to survive like a addictive drug, then your known to be stupid.
However i feel like the only memories i have with him is having sex, unusual memories for somebody you love so dearly. So i came to the conclusion that its a illusion that is divided into two sections fake and real; the love was fake but the sex was real. Drawl gripping sex that grabbed each lost souls to intensely clash their sweaty body, delicacy but rough.This dean guy is like the devil, the devil ate my soul, producing fears of social crowds knowing what i have done. To me at first, i didn't feel like i would care. Then everyone found out. I don't understand the concept of being called a 'Jbag' if I've only had sex with one boy and he was my first kiss and first love. The name calling and new rummers never got to me until the one person, who actually meant something to me said most powerful, crushing words. For real, you would never believe them to say such a hurtful thing. " why don't you go and open your legs to one of them HOOD-RATS, you fucking hoe!" Guess who it was... My mum.
