I never loved him - he was merely the first one who payed attention to me. I was intrigued by his love letters to Malinda, who couldn't decide the best way to tell him she wasn't interested. I took him because there would be no work involved. He told me of his aunt who practiced witchcraft and I researched it from there.
She could have been my first girlfriend. She was hurt and needed someone, but she left too quickly for anything to develop. We flipped through the pages of a teen witchcraft book, wondering if we could pull it off.
He was the only non-repulsive one of the nerd group. He even had a sense of humor. Neither of us knew what to do, but he didn't respond when I tried to get frisky. We never stopped being friends, despite him outshining me on the stage. He will always be my reason for loving "Screwtape."
They were always with other girls, although not unfriendly to me. One showed no interest, one acted differently around me than with anyone else, and the other made comments about my breasts. I will never forget their voices and I wish I could still be friends with all of them. They made me want to attend Western.
He was never good enough for me. My fascination with him just got out of hand. We didn't see each other, so I projected things onto his personality. He never told me I was pretty, but I felt attractive with him. He was a horrible singer.
He thought it was okay to fondle my breasts, but he never kissed me. That's all it would have taken - at least one kiss - but now I think of him as a slimeball.
I still think she's in the closet. We were very close friends, and I wanted more, but could never find the words to say. She was scarred by men, used them like toys, and threw them away. I got through to her on some level and won her trust, but she would only make out with me in public, to reel in her next male victim.
He won me over with wit and charm. I admired the way he was so trusting, before I saw how it could be harmful. I told myself I loved him, but it wasn't until much later that I actually did. Most of the time he was self-absorbed. He stressed appearance, and let me know that sometimes I didn't meet the standard. I matured, but he stayed exactly the same.
He was broken and vulnerable - and so emotional. I knew I would fall in love with him. Being close but not physical was sometimes agony. He shut himself off and every day became more and more unbearable. I felt like everything I could ever want was right there, just out of my reach, right under his walls. I hated having to hold back.
I am always holding back.
Created: Jul 27, 2010lauratron Document Media