You left so many holes in me the day you decided to make me yours and I can’t make myself whole again. We, you and I, fell in love a little too early in life.  We were 12 years old; fresh out of elementary school. You had plenty of girlfriends by the time we met, which is pretty sad because we were barely in the 6th grade. We had math together and had to sit right next to each other due to stupid sitting charts. We became friends, although I found you annoying. You were very talkative and friendly. I was very quiet and reserved.
My parents were planning on going through a divorce and your father left you with an abusive mother years before.  Your mom wasn’t the nicest person, but you always covered her mistakes with long sleeves. I’d notice the countless times you were gone. You would miss days, maybe even a week of school and I couldn’t help you. When you did go to school the other girls would greet you with hugs and kisses on the cheek, instead of the bruises on your body left by a monster you call “mom”. I sat at our table and waited for you to let me know how much you missed me and my obnoxiously loud laugh. And you did.  At such a young age I could still see you and all that you were; you had no idea how much I wanted to take care of you, but I couldn’t even take care of myself.
On April 13th 2009, we were outside during lunch. I was with my “friends” and you were with your best buds and we both felt so lonely. You came up to me and interrupted the girl going on and on about things I didn’t care to hear. You asked me to walk with you, and so we walked around the basketball court where sweaty 8th grade boys were throwing balls and trying to conquer the floor to impress little 13 year old girls. You stared straight at me for a while when you stopped walking and ignored the entire ruckus caused by our fellow classmates. With the biggest and most sincere smile on your face you asked “Will you be my girlfriend?” those words were the sweetest sound I had heard in all those 11 years I had lived. Your smile grew even bigger after I answered your question with a yes. You hugged me and twirled me around. I could almost feel your happiness, something I haven’t felt after you left me. Little did I know back then that you were going to ruin my life.
Middle school for us was a bit chaotic. You would always be suspended for a few days, or weeks, for fighting with boys who irritated you for no apparent reason. No matter how many times I’d beg you to stop pounding on them, not even when I would get in the middle of whom you were fighting. You wouldn’t stop hitting him even after you saw me on the ground with tears on my face. You wouldn’t listen and you weren’t able to notice me seeing who you were. Now this didn’t happen once, this happened multiple times; your anger seemed to blind you a lot. You were gone a lot; holes would grow inside of me during your absences. We’d exchange sweet kisses, laughs, cuddles and love over the years.
Complete mayhem broke out in high school. During those three years we were together, you broke up with me at least a bazillion times, more or less. I don’t know. I lost count after seven. Our break ups lasted about a day or two; sometimes it was only a few hours. Everything made you so angry, and I couldn’t control you. I’d wish every day that you’d get better, that we’d get better somehow.
I tried convincing myself that those little slaps and strong pushes were some day going to stop, but every now and then I was slammed against a wall. You’d swear on my life that you loved me and I’d find myself back in yours arms hoping you weren’t lying. Now I was the one covering your mistakes with long sleeves, bug eye glasses, and red lipstick so that the cuts and bruises wouldn’t show. You’d comfort me with kisses as if your phony love could ever conceal the holes you have left inside me. We ended up moving into your mom’s house two weeks after our high school graduation and a few days after my parents’ divorce. The day we set up our room you promised me you’d love me for the rest of my life. Oh how I hated your promises.
You grew tired and bored and you were always looking for something new. All those countless number of girls you’d lay in bed with were a reflection of yourself and I couldn’t see that. You didn’t have your own bed until you were nine-teen years old so you’d lay your body on theirs to feel what you thought you craved for.
It was early November and you took one of them to the park across from my best friends’ house. I remember her, Denise; she had such long and neglected black hair, a dimple on her left cheek and eyebrows that covered half of her forehead.
She was talking your ear off with problems she had with her boyfriend, and to prevent her from crying you hugged her. During that intense and totally unnecessary hug, she took your beanie from your hand and you playfully chased her. It took merely seconds for you to grab her from behind and you both landed on the grass where in some odd way, and for some odd reason, both of your lips met. Once the street lights turned on and the moon made its daily appearance, she led you to the swings. You sat on the swing and she stood in front of you. Denise poured her heart out to you and let you how much she has longed for this moment.
  She tempted you too much and your self-control seemed to have disappeared. Denise pushed you onto the bench and your heart started to beat faster than when you ran from your mom after she put the burning hot clothes iron to your chest. That left a mark on you only I had seen. Denise got on top of you and you took it from there.
It took you two days to let me know what you did, and I wasn’t surprised even after you started crying. Your tears didn’t move me, nor did they make me shed some armor off of my guarded heart. I yelled out how pathetic you were and walked to the door. You stood up as I was trying to get out of your room and grabbed me by my hair. You pulled me closer, hugged me tightly and tried to kiss me. Your lips were moving down to my neck as I kept trying to get away, and that angered you. You wrapped your hands around my neck and threw me to the ground. I kept telling you to stop, but you just kept pounding on me.
Your brother knocked on the door to let us know he was about to leave to work and you gave me one last blow. You sat on the floor and helped place me on your lap. You got my hair out of my face and set me free after a long kiss on the forehead. You helped me up, opened the door and your brother was waiting there for me in the hallway. You smiled at me as a way of saying “you’re free to go for now.” and I did.
Your brother and I walked into the kitchen where he examined my face and made sure the bruises weren’t noticeable. He gave out a long sigh and started apologizing to me as he always does but I brushed it off and fixed up his meal. I made him an egg, cheese, and ham sandwich and sent him off to work with a full stomach. He thanked me, hugged me, and told me “I’ll only be gone for a few hours. I’ll be back soon enough. Make sure my sisters are fed and try not to make them too mad.” I nodded and he left.
I finished making the rice while your mother was sleeping on the living room couch. I yelled out for your sisters twice to come wash their hands and get ready to eat. I semi-yelled out for the last time, “Girl’s, come eat.” And within seconds your mother woke up.
Your sisters were making their way to the sink when your mother walked in to the kitchen and started yelling at us. Your sisters tried hiding behind me before your mother could do anything to them. You should have seen their frightened faces when you came out of your room and called out for me. You were exactly like your mother, an ignorant, abusive, evil, flirtatious, piece of meat disguised as an angel. They didn’t want me to leave, but I had no other choice. They held on to me so tightly, but I had to go.
I walked into the room and you were waiting for me with half a smile on your face. I made my way to the chair you had right next to your window. I tried to get past you as fast as I could, but you are too quick. You grabbed me by my waist, placed your cold hand on my semi-beat up face, and you slowly kissed my lips. You stepped back from me and said “I love you,” I knew that was the last time I’d ever hear that lie. I grabbed the gun from your drawer that you bought off your old middle school friend and pointed it at you.
You slowly backed away from me and tried talking me out of this, but I had already made up my mind for once. I told you “I love you, too. I love you more than anyone in this world. I have loved you for eight years. You are my world, you are my everything, and you are my life.” You reached for the door and I pulled the trigger. Now I left a hole in you.