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That Night

Went something like this…

Me: NewGuy you just don’t understand. For years it’s been me. Sure I have my sister, and Margie, and others but it’s been me. Everyone knew I went through my own stuff I didn’t talk about things I didn’t need help. Then you. You come and you hold me, you hug me, and you love me. *Starts to cry* You tell me that everything’s okay. You tell me it’s not my fault. You tell me I’m beautiful.

Communication between us.

Me: I’m okay I’m just sad I’m leaving, and I never expected to find someone like you. To be treated the way you treat me. It’s good NewGuy. It’s scary lovinging someone and giving you so much trust, but I love you.
NewGuy: It’s suppose to be scary. It’s suppose to be new and exciting. You know I love you right?
Me: *slowly tears fall down my face again and I nodd as he reaches for me*

How did I get so lucky?


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“Relationship Mature”

According to one of my (douche bag) friends in high school there are two types of mature. Mature and “Relationship Mature” according to him I’m really lacking in the relationship mature stage of my life. Back story: Me and him tried to date in high school and the physical part of a relationship was extremely difficult because I had just broken up with Steve. (also our “relationship” lasted maybe a month)  Therefore this friend let’s call him Elliot. Elliot has put me on a pedestal ever since and well it’s real hard to get down. So now I’m a “saint” and I never do anything physical.

Ya I hope you just made that “I can’t believe that ass hole” face too because I made it also. However back to the main story. So he tells me that I am far from ready to have a relationship. Partially because of my “inexperience” (Please note this is the saint part coming in). I’ll admit I am pretty low on the good experiences side of a relationship, but that doesn’t mean I’m not mature enough to handle them. I think I’m a little past the giggle stage, and or the can’t handle this stage.

I’ll admit though it’s going to be difficult, and it’s going to be different. It’s going to have to be in love not in lust, because I have capped off my lust for someone I love. How does this make me immature? Does it not make me mature? Is it such a bad thing that I expect people to be okay with it and accept me, and love me. Not just make love to me.

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Rough Week

I have this really bad habbit of shaking when I freak out. Then the fact that I can’t control the shakes, just makes me shake more. What does this have anything to do with anything? I’m shaking. It starts as a smal tremor almost in my heart, but it spreads to my chest and I can feel my shoulders trying to remain still, then my hands. My hands have the shakes of my old grandmother. I don’t know how I picked it up, I know I should put it down these shakes, but its hard. They just throw me off my balance, because literally I’m shaken.

Hardest things about meeting a boy and trying to date him:

“How old are you?”
“Nineteen. But it depends who you ask. My mom will say I’m 83.”
“Because I’m freakishly mature for my age. I sorta had to grow up fast. Skipped a lot of things I guess.”
He shoots me a weird look because I just told him I had to grow up fast. What forced me to grow up fast and why did I miss out on being a little ol’ freshman? I don’t answer his look just close my eyes and lay on my back.
“Does that bother you?” I smile a little glad he’s not going to pry, you just met me. You should keep that idea of me, at least for a little while longer.
“Sometimes. Mostly not though, I just grew faster up I guess.” I look at him and he’s looking at me.
“I use to be crazy my sophomore year. I’m calm now.”

Just like that the conversation just kept going and I couldn’t help but notice the pause that happened after I said I had to grow up fast. I had to learn the difference between love, and consent. I had to learn how to live when all you want to do is stop. I had to learn these things that some people, most people just know.

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