My First LoveAs I lay here thinking of...well you. My self inflicted hate is beginning to fade. My mind is focusing ever so slowly and realisation and truth are waking me up.
This is a story for anyone to read. It's about love and pain and being naive.
I met this girl first week of college, on the last day of the week she walked into class - she was the new student- and I was smitten, like being hit by a lighting bolt.
She sat next to me and we talked and I just...fell for her.
The more she talked the more I wanted to know, she liked reading,like me. She liked Muse, like me. She liked to write, like me and she played piano, like me.
Let me tell you about her, she was south american, her hair was long , luscious and natural. She was nearly as tall as me, she had this heart melting smile. She spoke as if every word had been weighed first. She was quiet and reserved, wore no makeup and just beautiful.
I was asked to show her around, I was in heaven. Pure undulated heaven. We practically spent the day togeather, there was a fare in the other college that we could all attend so we did. Rose(lets call her Rose), George and I.
When George left we talked for a while then she had to head home, I told her so much in those first few discussions than I do with most people.
Trying to make this short. Anyway I added her on facebook (she was literally making a facebook account for the first time) and we talked like we'd known each for ages for the whole weekend for hours. I was ecstatic.
The next Monday we even planned to go in to college early just to "talk". Then Tuesday after another great day she asked what my obsession with her was and for the first time in my life I told a girl I liked her.
To make a long story short she liked me to, we began dating (fast_ I know O.e) She said she didn't want to have sex etc, and I told her I didn't care about that. I mean I only cared about actually being with her. I don't think she ever believed that.
I can honestly the next two weeks were the happiest of my life. I've never been so...real. You see I have severe depression, and a host of abandonment issues etc. I find it hard to keep people close to me. Don't misunderstand making friends isn't the problem. It's keeping them I find hard. I tend to be very paranoid, I've always believed everyone hates me especially my mother. It eats into me, then there's the sadness itself. It's like being dead everyday but being forced to pretend I'm alive.
Sometimes it feels like it hurts to live. I tend to keep to myself because of this and I don't have motivation for anything. Even living because of these issues and over time the invites stop coming, the texts thin out, the calls end...anyway off to the less depressing stuff
So two weeks of absolute bliss I was happy. It felt like I was finally cured, finally normal. Every day after college I'd wait with her for the bus which meant I missed two of my buses. Then when her's arrived I'd usually walk home or wait for another bus often than not I walked because there wasn't another bus for a long while. I always told her I got the bus. I walked most of the time. You see waiting for her at the bus stop meant more time with her. Walking home was a small price to pay; it's only an hour walk anyway.
Her parents found out about us and my god they hit the roof. Her mother called me, her father threatened me. I had no idea what the **** had happened. In the end I was forced to break up with her. It killed me.
It sliced deeper than any real wound could. I spent the next few days in self hate. I nearly left college. I despised myself but I loved her. This was my first breakup you see before this I'd turned down more girls than I had asked any out, I'd asked no one out. I believed that whoever had the misfortune to go out with me would be making the biggest mistake of their life and after I broke up with Rose. I felt I had been right, it was a nasty breakup. Painful. We went out twice you see, that was the first time.
I remember we used to text till the late hours of the night till she fell asleep. I don't sleep much so she used to call me her "sexy vampire" - apparently I'm attractive at least that's what my counsellor and some clearly delusional girls have told me.
She'd wake up earlier than me and I'd always find a message or two when I woke up.
She'd call me for hours, sometimes she'd fall asleep while texting about 1am then about 3 am I'd get a call. It was nice to be loved but now I wish I never felt that.
My hands are tired so I'll continue the story at some other time not that I expect any ***** to be given but I find writing helps me feel better about it.