On July 7th, 2010 I met Ben.
He wore ripped jeans, vans and a led zeppelin t-shirt.
He told me he loved me on September 10th while listening to Nirvana Unplugged.
And after that and every weekend from then on we skated down to the beach and ate ice cream on the boardwalk.
I've never smiled so hard except for when I was with Ben.
And every time I looked at Ben "First Day of My Life" by Bright Eyes played.
And I got the biggest fucking butterflies.
On September 20th, Ben and I went down to the beach and it was really fucking cold.
This time Ben told me not to get any ice cream and he brought me straight down to the sand.
He unrolled a towel on the sand and motioned me to lay down.
He asked if it was ok to touch me and I nodded.
By the end of the night I had given myself to him and I didn't regret it one bit because I trusted him.
And then a month went by and Ben still held my hand, but not as tightly as you used too.
And then 5 months went by and I bought him tickets to see his favorite band, but he told me he didn't like them very much anymore.
On our one year anniversary he told me he couldn't see me because he had "a thing with his mom".
And on July 7th, 2012 I cried myself to sleep.
Exactly a year and a day after Ben had told me he loved me, he wanted to break up.
This time some dumb fucking song by Taylor Swift was blasting from his sisters room.
He told me it was because he found a another girl.
I told him it was because he was a fucking pussy.
Ben was just like that Taylor Swift song, fucking dumb and meaningless.
But I made my first mistake when I said that I trusted him.
