It was funny, I had grown up an outcast, and somehow I got you. I was awkward, I'm not pretty, or skinny, or even funny. I'm just Sarah. My name says it all. It was nearing the end of my sophomore year, and I couldn't wait to get out. I always got exhausted with school. I managed good grades, and I had a 28 on my ACT, but I hated school. It made me feel hopeless. I was alone; I had no friends. Of course I had my friendly acquaintances, the people I would hold the occasional casual conversation with. I had my classmates too. You were one of them. You were incredibly handsome, and a total goof, yet at the same time, you were so intelligent. Unfortunately, you were popular. I was a loser, and you were at the center of everyone’s attention; once again, I was hopeless. I would be obnoxious and loud, just to see if you’d notice. It was out of character for me, but I liked you. You were everything I looked for. I had Facebook at the time, and I thought I’d look you up. You had one; one you hadn’t used in years. That’s when I made it a point to talk to you. In class, we had the occasional conversation, but the next day, I reminded you that you had a Facebook. You went on, accepted my friend request and I looked at your profile. I was such a creeper, and I didn’t have the guts to talk to you. It went on like that for awhile, and one day, you were online at the same time as me, I sent you a hello. I was nervous. Really nervous. You said hello, and it went from there. We would joke, talk, and confide almost every night after school. Then the next day after talking we would act like complete strangers at school. It was discouraging. Then one night it was different, you were acting odd, I interrogated you until you told me. Hesitantly you admitted you liked me. I was so happy, but afraid. Nervously I professed my feelings for you too. There. Happy ending right? Wrong. You weren’t permitted to date. You were too morally upright to lie to your parents too. We had a dilemma, and I felt hopeless. Nights went on and you would talk about having a conversation with your parents. Then one night, you asked me to a movie; I was perplexed. Apparently your father had said yes to allowing you out. We went to the movie, and it seemed somewhat awkward, for we had no experience talking face to face, but we went with it. I had such a great night, mostly because I knew things were starting to fall together less chaotically. One weekend, you had to get off Facebook. It was the only way I had to talk to you and I was afraid of losing you. You dared me to call you. Once again, being totally out of character, I called you, and we talked, for hours. It went on like that for a few days, and then one day you finally asked me out. I of course said YES! I had been waiting for this day forever. You, being the goof you were, went on Facebook and told everyone online that you and I were dating. I was flattered. Then not even a month later, you told me you loved me, I loved you too and we told each other every night from then on out. A year passed, a good year, with good memories, and fun times, but it also had its bad. We argued a lot. We always made up, but we continued to argue. It hurt me very badly, but I loved you so much, I was willing to work through it. A little over a week after our one year anniversary, we broke up. You broke up with me. I don’t think I could ever feel that terrible in my life again. I cried that night, and woke up at 4 in the morning, hysterical. I was alone again. Things progressively got worse between us over the next few months. I got frustrated with you, because I was no longer good enough, and you purposely tried to hurt me. I did my share of bad things, but I never tried to hurt you. That’s what you did. You asked her to prom. I cried every night after she told me, I had asked you and you had said if you went, you would go alone. It hurt me badly. She still carries around her keychain with the picture of you two on it. I feel like breaking it every time I see it. We didn’t talk after that. I couldn’t talk to you, it hurt me too bad. Then one day, I was talking to your mother, and she said you were “cranky”. We always talked about you, even though we didn’t mean too. Since you were cranky, and I was out of school, I bought you lunch. Your favorite from Mickey D’s. I brought it to your house, and I heard you out in the shop. You were listening to the CD I had made you. I took your lunch out there and you ate it, we talked, and eventually I left. It was refreshing, talking to you again, but I wouldn’t be able to talk to you again, I didn’t know your number or have a Facebook anymore. A few days later I got a text from your new number. “What did ya need?” you had asked. I replied that I didn’t know who it was, even though I did and we talked from there. It wasn’t good or bad talk. Just talk. I was happy, I had your number again, and I hoped things would get better over time. At least we could talk again, I thought. Then you wouldn’t reply to my texts anymore, I would ask you a question and then get frustrated that you wouldn’t reply. Then one morning you texted me. “What??? I mean god damn im not gonna answer every fricking text idk all of the answers jesus.” I cried all day. I just ruined everything, again. I felt like such a failure, and I still do, I had my chance to talk with you again and all I did was make you angry. Who knew love hurt so badly? I always told myself that it was funny when a person found their soulmate, but they didn’t love you back. I wondered why everyone was so cruel. I came to realize life stinks. That’s just how it goes. I lost a part of me when I lost you, but even though it’s pointless, I always hope for you to come back. I’m an outcast, and somehow I got you, but I also lost you. I guess I can blame that on my awkwardness.
Love Life, Not a Boy
June 18, 2010