My story

To you, L. Pt.2

***trigger warning.
If you are bothered by the topics of underaged drinking, bullying, depression, and sexual situations, this chapter IS NOT for you***

All we became were arguments and tension,
And you know what, yeah it was my fault.

My depression hitting me, the death of such a close family member, the not knowing how to deal with death; it all hit me full force.

But you know what, you weren't much help either.

All you ever told me was,
'It's life, you gotta get over it and learn to move on.'
Like seriously?
HOW am I supposed to have that mentality when it's all still so fresh?
Yeah maybe I sucked at opening up, maybe I was angry.
Yeah I was becoming more hostile by the day.
But the fact that you approached my situation with no sympathy, and only tried to make jokes to make me feel better, didn't help at all.
I started becoming so unhappy with you.

And the day I blacked out at the school due to stress and anxiety and me not eating,
The first thing you did was make jokes about the stitches I had to get on my chin.
Calling me names and thinking it was all going to help me feel better.
But you actually became so irritating to me, i even remember telling you I didn't like the jokes,
And you told me to relax because they were ONLY JOKES.

A week went by after my incident with blacking out, and a friend of mine invited me to my first high school house party, to help me get my mind off of things.
And I agreed.
But before that, L and I got into another argument.
He probably doesn't remember me asking to go on a break.
How I said I was fed up.
He said I was just saying things and I said I was done.
I was so sure I cut it off, or at least made it clear I wanted space.
But this is where the most miscommunication happened.

Remember how I miscommunication is the downfall to relationships?
Well, this is where everything got bad.

I was so positive that I made it clear that I wanted space and time, and he didn't take me seriously.
We both thought different things, and that's how this spiraled out of control.

So I went to that house party with my friend, thinking that I'm on a break with L.
Thinking to myself, that this night I can be free and just get my mind off of things.

And that's exactly what I did.

That night was the first time I ever drank like you see in all those coming of age movies.
The backyard party we went to played all these dancing songs, and I was grinding with my friend, and his other friend he brought along.
We all were drinking and just having so much fun.
For once for what felt like forever, I wasn't angry or upset.
The rest of the world didn't seem to exist.
I wasn't hurting.
I was buzzed and having one hell of a good time.

Eventually the party got busted, so our little trio headed back to my friends house, to spend the night.

The three of us were so buzzed, and kept giggling to ourselves as we walked upstairs to the bedrooms.

Eventually, my friend and his friend started making out while my drunk self was trying to watch a movie.

But it was kinda awkward, because next thing you know, these two boys begin getting really intimate really fast.
I just sat there, not knowing how to respond to any of it.

I was pulled into the mix somehow, and was too buzzed to even say no.
I mean, my best friend is gay, so it wasn't weird, right?
And his friend was really hot, so, why not?
I made out with them both, and I was so in shock.

Is this really happening?
I was in denial, but liked the rush, so I went along with it.

That's as far as any of this went. Just really hot make out sessions.
We were all only in our underwear, but it didn't go any further.

Despite me being extremely buzzed, I knew that I didn't want my first time to be like this.

So instead, I just asked to cuddle and fall asleep.

So I fell asleep with my best friends, hot friend.

When I woke up the next morning, I remembered the night before, and turned around, to see this attractive boy asleep next to me.

I couldn't believe I made out with that boy all night, shirtless.

I was so shocked, yet, I was happy.

It was a fun experience.

I went home later that day, and pretended as if none of that had happened.
Let's be real, at the time, my parents would e absolutely killed me if they knew what happened.

L and I talked, like the friends we were, and eventually we were okay for a bit.
To me, that was when I thought our 'break' was over, once we seemed okay.

But he didn't realize I meant what I said when I got up and left.

So, when I told him about that night at the party,
I was accused of being a cheater.

A cheater? Really?

I thought I made it obvious I didn't want ANYTHING to do with L.
But he never took me seriously.

Did this miscommunication fuck everything up?
It did, big time.

I was now this 'cheater'.
I was this liar apparently.
I was the bad guy now.
And yes, I took all the blame.
well because, he made me feel so guilty, so it must've been 100% my fault, right?
He blasted it all on me, and played the victim.
So of course, my self hatred believed it, and made my mind a living hell.

We argued so much, and I tried to defend my side of the story.
But no one believed me.
I was called so many names by people I thought were friends.

Whore.
Slut.
Liar.
Cheater.
Pig.
Hoe.
Bitch.

You name it, and that's what everyone thought of me.
And I started to believe them.

I hated myself more than anyone could ever know.

And all because, there was one night of miscommunication.