are we breaking up? pt.1

The first time I ever had my heart broken was one of the most miserable, pathetic times of my life. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and stayed in bed watching country music videos for two days straight. I couldn't even comprehend the feelings I was having. Like, WTF IS HAPPENING TO ME? I knew, logically, that I would feel better soon... that he wasn't really that cute anyways... and that this was just ~part of growing up; but being the emotional tornado that I was, I fuckin' balled my eyes out like it was the end of the world.

I absolutely dreaded the idea of having to go to school and potentially (without a doubt) running into him. Of course, I had to go.. and yes, I ran into him too. What I should have done is smile and walk away with my pride intact. But...what'd I do? Broke down into tears, turned around as quickly as I could, and headed to the bathroom where I'd spend the next half hour watching myself cry in the mirror.

But lets go back in time a bit here, why did we break up anyways? This boy was my first love, the one I lost my virginity to, my first for pretty much everything...I adored him!  He was one of the "popular" guys...he played sports year round, got good grades, and came from a respectable religious family; while I was the weird new girl who dressed in black. We met at homecoming my freshman year; he approached me, told me his name, and we ended up sharing a dance that was a bit too promiscuous for anyone's liking. But what did I know? I was new! At my old school, people were all about bumpin' n grindin'.  Anyways,  as I was dippin' it low with this new cute boy... he asked me if I'd want to hang out again... and we did, and we totally hit it off.

 Oh yeah, back to why we broke up. We dated for probably 7 months before we split (the first time). We were sitting on my front porch and he told me that we needed to talk. Blah, blah, blah... he told me a bunch of unimportant things that I don't remember, and one thing I do remember. "I am seventeen years old, I am sexually frustrated, and summer is coming."   

As soon as those words came from his mouth, my face turned red and became drenched with tears. . His confession about sexual frustration and the fact that he just legit wanted to get laid over the summer was straight up TMI, and a total dick move. But pretty funny now that I think about it. Nevertheless, I totally flipped out. And he had the nerve to say, "I still want to be friends, though."  Guys just don't get it sometimes. Infuriated, I stayed silent until he left. As soon as his car was out of sight, I just leaned against a wall and let my body fall to the ground. I cried, cried and cried... and after my three day country-music-sob-fest, I got over it...


You should too.