Why I Don't Kiss Boys (Looking For Alaska Contest)

Foolish Little Girl

He wasn't a very nice guy.

I was 13. Young, naïve, trusting and so desperate to prove I was mature.

He was 16. Tall, different, a mutual friend and he made me laugh.

We started dating, and in my now 16 years and 362 days of life- it has been my biggest mistake.

I was so taken by him. He was a whirlwind, a hurricane in my basic life, something that made me giddy and giggly and oh-so happy. He told me he loved me, and I so foolishly said it back. We'd been together for 2 weeks at this point.

Soon after that, things started slipping. Possessive traits started showing, unwarranted behaviour and comments, things that I let go or straight up didn't recognize for what they really were. And what they really were, was warning signs for a toxic, emotionally and mentally manipulative and abusive relationship. And I still had 15 months to go before I finally got "free".

He was always quick to things. Quick to shrug things off, quick to incorrect conclusions, quick to raise his voice, quick to anger and once quick to punch a hole in my wall, and then he'd blame it on other things; his depression; me; my little brother; the things I'd said; his feelings and unwillingness to "lose me"; anything and anyone apart from his attitude and himself. I used to be scared of him during those times, used to shy away, avoid him and his lashouts until he'd crawl his way back, showering me with apologies and gifts and I'd take him back, just like clockwork.

When I told him I was bi, he cried. I thought, him also being bisexual, he'd accept me readily. Instead, he wept and begged me not to leave him, saying he didn't want me to cheat or date anyone else.

Nevermind the fact he used to inform me about all his.... escapades..., in great detail, and cheated on me himself.

He ruined me. I did some dumb things during our relationship, some things to try and fill the void within myself and some things to try and end it. I shut down, isolated myself, and tried so very hard to remember what emotions were before him. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd laughed genuinely or cried, because everything was a façade and I bottled up more things than a liquor store. We didn't even speak the last few months, despite the fact he was over everyday.

And then I left him.

It's been over 3 years.

I still think about him- more than I want to- but I'm getting better. My friends stepped up in the tenuous time after that Tuesday I left him, they kept me together, kept my mind occupied and washed away his presence.

I hate him. I truly do. I'll never forgive him for what he did to me. But I will forget him. Because in the end, that's what he is.

Forgettable.