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My name is Stephanie. I am sixteen years old, and I have never been kissed.
You cannot believe how it feels to have typed those words and finally put them out there, even if no one ever reads them besides, perhaps, the one person who already knows. I can't pretend that I know what anyone thinks of me or how those thoughts of me could change upon hearing this information about me, but I don't care anymore. I need to say this before I lose my mind.
This didn't really bug me until last summer when I got my first boyfriend. Yep, fifteen and on my first boyfriend. Absolutely average, and I was fine with that. I didn't bother the fates for more. He was weird, I was weird. Being weird together seemed like a gift from heaven. He was a freshman and was into me--for reasons I cannot even begin to comprehend--far more than I was into him. But I'll admit, I was desperate. All my friends were dating and urging me to do so as well. But he was tall, so i overlooked the fact that he asked me out over the phone an hour after seeing me in person. After three days of some serious high-school level hand-holding, things went wrong. He just...gave up and I was ignored for the last week and a half of school. I had a tough time that summer, dealing with the rejection, especially since, to this day, I have never been given a reason why he acted that way. I was so mad at him for abandoning me, but mostly for getting my hopes up that, perhaps, I had a chance at the same happiness everyone else had.
Boyfriend #1: failure.
The past school year hasn't made things much easier. Most everyone has had some sort of serious relationship in the past, so I don't expect anyone to empathize with how I feel when I go to school. Every where--trust me, EVERYWHERE--is a couple, flaunting their affection to the world. At the beginning of this year, that wouldn't have bothered me in the least. I was comfortable in who I was. But now, I just feel bitter. I look away from the happy people, choosing to wander alone rather than even be close. I would sit with a couple and we would all talk. Then they would start making out and I would be left there, alone. Eventually, I'd crack a joke and they would laugh, but the hurt would be there, just beneath the surface. Again and again this would continue, and I'd just hide my pain with more humor. Joke that I'd never get a guy until I was 42.56785353 years old. Always gets a laugh. Create a fictional situation where I end up being the crazy cat lady living in a cardboard box beneath a successful friend's office. That one kills. It felt like, if I kept laughing about it, maybe nobody would notice that I was dying inside. The emotional distance was a temporary fix, though. I thought, if I stayed away, then it wouldn't hurt, but I see now that I was wrong. Everything hurts more than ever now, and, because I didn't own up to my feelings and ran away, I have no friends. Just a bunch of people who think they know me.
So back to the present. It has now been established that I'm pretty much a loser. I'm awkward and a little too weird for my own good. Thinking about it, though I always count my friends as an informal part of my family, there is only one who is truly a sister to me. That is not to say that I do not care for the other people in my life, but, Sarah--and I know you are reading this--you are probably the only person who ever asks how I'm feeling outside my immediate family. If I didn't have you in my life, I wouldn't have lasted this long without some sort of psychotic break. Thank you.
Ugh, selflessness. I need to go back to talking about myself again. My friends, those who at least pretend to give a crap, don't seem to mind me too much. Like I said, I use humor to compensate, so I'm always good for a laugh. I can be a dork, but I'd like to think that you might be pleasantly surprised if you got to know me. If. I've yet to find a single guy who will take a chance on this crazy dork, but I just have to make myself believe that it will happen one day, because I don't think I could get out of bed if I didn't believe that it would being that day just a little bit closer.
My name is Stephanie I am sixteen years old and have never been kissed.
| | a note: i posted this on myspace last night, but i'm practically invisible on that site and, though i thought i counted on the anonymity of it all, the knowledge that no one was listening just made this a heavier burden. though i don't count on anyone reading this here either, gaia has always been more welcoming than myspace, and i feel better spilling my guts knowing that someone here might like what they see on the inside
- - steffisawrus - - · Mon May 31, 2010 @ 05:43pm · 0 Comments |
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