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When I was about 14, I met my first real boyfriend. Seems young, but just bear with me.
Ironically, he had been dating a friend of mine, but things didn't work out between them.
I asked her if she cared that I went out with him, being the clueless teenage girl that I was.
She told me she didn't care, as she was already talking to somebody new, so I leaped.
I started dating him January of 2008. I had NO IDEA that we would stay together for two and a half years after that. I was so young, so impressionable, and so vulnerable that I went along with whatever it took to keep him interested.
I never slept with him, which is something I am always grateful for. (Of course, the first guy I did end up sleeping with, was no prize either. I'm ashamed of that.)
But I honestly thought that I was in love with him. He made me laugh, smile, but most importantly he made me feel as though I were enough. Everything seemed perfect.
I couldn't believe that at such a young age, I could have possibly found the guy I would spend forever with.
Of course, as stated, I was young and impressionable.
I don't think I was ever truly in love with him, more so in love with the idea of him.
I was in such awe that a guy, any guy really, wanted me.
He was super cute, and very sweet to me. He saw the quiet, introvert parts of me and never made me feel bad for them. In fact, on numerous occasions, he called it cute how reserved I was.
Of course, I didn't even know that I had indirectly stumbled into my own heart's defeated end.
One day I got a message, from a random girl I'd never even heard of before, asking me if I was dating the boy who I won't name. I was confused, but answered honestly. Because I was dating him, and had been for about a year.
She then told me that she too, had been dating him for a while, and that they were still together as of the day she messaged me. I felt sick to my stomach. Had he been cheating on me this entire time? Had everything he ever said to me been a lie?
I grabbed my phone and texted him. He wrote back saying it was a lie, (obviously), and that I should just block this girl and not talk to her again. I did as he told, but something still didn't feel right inside my gut.
Months went by, and he acted normal, though I could see a few things had changed.
Whenever I went to his house, or anywhere with him, his phone would be turned off. He said he didn't like being interrupted when he was with me, which at first sounded cute, but then after a while it started to sink in the real reason why he kept his phone off.
