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BODY COUNT
five. three weeks. i pointed out his looks in front of 100 people. lonely months passed by. he called me pretty once and to me that counted for all the times he should have said it more.
four. two days. he snuck me into his dorm room. that was the first time we met in person and the first and last time we fucked. but a one time thing with him felt more meaningful than a several time thing with him and him and him too. and definitely him.
three. two months. his tongue originated in mexico and his accent that spoke "i don't know how to say it in english" made me want to teach him more than just poetic words in the language but also how to make love for the first time. we never made love. just had sex. because you can't teach someone something you don't understand either.
two. six months. my longest relationship. my biggest regret. not because it ended but because it ended.
one. also three weeks. i was guilt tripped and gave him my innocent and untouched body in return for him treating me like a boyfriend should. but to me it was a luxury. a treasure. now i know it's an expectation even though i've still never had that privilege. i told him i loved him right after. he told the entire school two days later.
i'm admired for what's on the inside... the inside of my temple. my organs that are supposed to tremble. my voice that's supposed to be soft and sweet. my lungs that are cages for the now deceased butterflies in my stomach. the lump in the middle of my throat that shouldn't be there because there needs to be room for him. none of them had to go on an adventure to find it. and that's why the journey to leave was longer than the journey searching.
my innocence was taken so much at a young age that in a sense my virginity was never there. not because it was ended but because it was ended.
