So there is this boy, right? He is tall, unique, and attractive. He is anything I could want in a boy. Except the fact that he is a fuckboy.
I met him in high school. I had somewhat known who he was but had never officially met him. That was until senior year of high school when he was in my college writing class.
Obviously, me being me, I gave sly glances and would look away whenever he would glance in my direction. Only watching and never speaking. Truthfully he influenced me into a lot of what I am today. From my love of fashion, taste in music, and looks.
I know what you're thinking, "why would you let a boy influence you so much? Just be yourself and he will like you for you". Yeah, I know he would, but I had to get him to notice me but the whole year passed and I never once talked to him.
Rumors of his past relationships and new hookups spread like wildfire throughout our school, just like everything else. He was a troubled teen with issues and experience. I, on the other hand, was not experienced and was about as normal as you could get. At least on the outside.
If he only knew how well our personalities would mesh to create a beautiful tangle of deep thoughts and crazy passion.
Our senior year ends and summer starts. I knew the whole summer that he and I would go to the same college. The whole summer I held on to the hope that we would meet and he would end his fuckboy ways and we would be together. However, I knew deep within my heart that my dreams would just stay dreams.
Until the first week of college.
There he is, with his friend, eating lunch. I was with my friends as we walked past them and ended up making eye contact.
That moment is the moment that everything changed.
The moment that led to late-night hangouts, becoming somewhat friends, and being too nervous to ever say how I really felt. Wondering if anything would ever happen.
Freshman year passes and sure there were some fun moments here and there. Like when our friend group would watch movies in his dorm and we would all hang out and talk.
Or when we went to a house party, but he and I stayed in the car to talk for an hour about the future and how we could make it better. But never our future, just the future.
Both too scared to make a move, I became the fun friend and he was still my dream guy.
Freshman year ends and summer begins.
Three months passing by with nothing but a couple of snap chats and me only seeing him when he was working...which was one time by the way.
Our friendship is strange. We get along so well, but will only hang out once in a blue moon. I don't want to be clingy and bother him. So I just stick with daydreams.
When summer ends and our sophomore year begins. So does the urge to see him, but the time apart has lessened my emotions for him.
A month could pass and I would finally lose interest in him, and just as the thought of moving on crosses my mind, there he is asking to hang out. And me being overcome with the longing to be with him. It makes me feel nauseous.
A headache, a heartache. It's all the same thing. I hurt and he doesn't know.
That is until the night we had sex.
Like I said earlier, he is very experienced, but he is very emotionally damaged. I've seen it first-hand.
The night started off normal, with homework and talking. Until the alcohol and friends were brought upon us. Midnight rolls around and I am ready to go home. I have not had a lot to drink, but enough to not drive. His friends leave and I go into his room to find a charger for my phone.
I turn around and he is behind me. We both fall on the bed and look at each other. Him hanging over me.
We kiss.
My dream finally coming true. Almost 3 years of longing for this moment. I was scared, excited, and in a daze.
Ya know ... I wrote this when I was in distress and in a haze. This boy is absolutely insane. I've never met anyone who is more confusing than he. Well, guess what boy... I'm back to being who I was before I met you!!!
