I Want To Try...I Want To Find Love.I've never had much luck with guys. They make me nervous. I don't know how to act around them. That's why I didn't get my first boyfriend until I was eighteen. He was also my first kiss. That went well, for the little time we were together. Time passed, and I had a second boyfriend. More time passed and he left. And here...we come to my story. My third boyfriend. We'd known each other a bit for a few years. Basic things. We hung out in the same large group of people. When he started getting closer to me, I was wary. A few months passed, then he asked me out. I said yes. I've only one life to live. I want to live it well.
We dated for a month, and he treated me wonderfully. My family loved him. He would call me at night before I went to sleep. We'd talk for hours. Halfway through our first month together, he started hinting that he wanted more. He said it wasn't a big deal, to take my time. I was relieved that he wasn't being pushy about it. Still, I wasn't ready. The days passed, each with more pressure than the last. He played it cool, but I knew he wasn't pleased with me. I thought about it a lot. Tried to convince myself. But I just couldn't. I wasn't ready for that step. I told him how much I cared about him. I really, really did. I told him I wasn't ready.
He left me that night.
A few days later, we met to "talk things over". He asked if I'd changed my mind. I hadn't. So, he told me the truth. Back, when he'd started to get closer to me, I'd been right to be wary of him. his friends had dared him. They picked a shy, awkward girl, and dared him to be her friend. To ask her out. To make it interesting, they bet on her reaction. My reaction. When I said yes, they upped the antee. Another bet. Get her to sleep with you. The deadline? A month.
While he spoke, I told myself it was just a lie to hurt me. But he was a very intelligent boy. Somehow, I knew he wouldn't lie about this. He was telling me the truth, and it was horrible. I said he was smart, and he was. He'd managed to learn everything about me. My likes, my loves, my dislikes and hates. My greatest dreams, my deepest fears. He used it all to get closer to me. And at the end...he used it to hurt me.
He confirmed my fears about myself. Replayed all my worst nightmares. I was never going to be good enough for anyone. No one could ever love a creature so pathetic as I. All kindness I saw was pity. My siblings hated me, my parents resented me. All my irrational thoughts, my illogical theories...he gave them solidarity. He backed himself up with facts about me. I couldn't withstand it. He broke me using my own mind against me. My own beating heart. Then he just walked away. I'd embarrassed him, making him lose the bet with his friends. But he did me one better.
He broke me. Every time I get my hopes up, his words ring in my head. If it were only just him...if it were only just me...then maybe it would be different. But my fears, mixed with his facts, it's too much. I can't see through them. I no longer know fact from fiction. I've tried another relationship, but it felt all wrong. He was needy, and I was unable to give anything. Ironically, he left me. He said he couldn't love me until I loved myself. I don't know how to love myself anymore.
My family asked about my third boyfriend. They wanted to know why we seperated. We were so perfect together. Because he wanted us to be. I couldn't bear to tell them the truth. I told them it was me. It hadn't felt right. We weren't suited to one another. My sister was hard on me. She said I shouldn't have left such a nice boy for such a stupid reason. She lectured me, and I cried. I almost told her why, but the shame took me over.
To this day, no one in my family knows the true reason he left me. His voice is in my head when I think about confessing. Surely, they would frown upon me for being so weak. If I'd just done what he'd asked, everything would've kept on being perfect. My own voice fights back. How long after he got what he wanted would he stick around? The pain of the truth, mixed with that sacrifice...that would kill me. I see him sometimes, and he smirks at me. He smirks. He won't let me forget, as if I could.
I want love. I want to have a special someone. To love and be loved. To live happily ever after. But the thought of meeting someone...of that initial stage. Building trust, making a life together? It terrifies me. What if the next one turns out just like him? I wouldn't survive it. What if he says the same things? I don't think I can bear to be hurt again. I'm not sure I'd make it through. But I want to try.
Oh, how I want to try.