Archive for the ‘teens’ Tag

That Awful Name.

Friday, March 8th, 2013

I’m young, right? Too young, a lot of people would say. “Fifteen year old girl, and she’s sexually active, wow, she must be such a slut.” Yeah, I know, I’ve heard it a million times. It never seemed to stop me. After all, just because I’m having sex does not mean I’m a slut, or a whore, or anything like that. But that is not what this is about at all.

As I’ve said about a million times, I’m in a very serious, loving relationship with a boy who is seventeen. I’m am a sophomore in high school, and he is a senior. I think it’s fair to say that the two of us are helplessly in love. But of course, like any other group of teenagers, we lust for each other too. There are times where him and I are left alone, and the atmosphere becomes warm, and somehow the sexual tension pulls the two of us together, regardless of the intentions. That’s naturally expected, especially at this age, with the hormones that we have. My boyfriend and I have had sex quite a few times during our relationship. I know how this looks. I used to look at other people this was. The situation changes when it’s personal, I guess I could conclude. As an outsider, you witness these kids around you, irresponsibly having sex, making children, all of that. It’s frustrating to be cast into that group under simple assumption, and you’re put into the position where you can’t exactly lie, because it’s not something you want to do. People already assume you’re sexually active, because you look happy, or “too happy,” which is simply ridiculous. My best friend for instance, refers to these kinds of couple as “looking like sex.” I guess she has made that perception based on the fact that when a boy and a girl are so close in their relationship, they’re so together. Do you know what I mean? They move like one person. And that’s understandable because the connection between two people after sharing something so passionate can be very apparent. I seem to be losing my purpose in this. My point it, I suppose that people look at my boyfriend and I, and they see a connection that is as strong as the sex that we have. But I hate that sentence too because it’s not just sex. It’s not just some guy that I met that I decided I wanted to have intercourse with. This is someone who puts the joy in my life. He’s the definition to my happiness, even though I know better than to make a person you’re pure happiness. It happened anyway. He’s the one that will do anything for me, just because I ask, or even when I don’t. He never ceases to surprise me. He makes me bad days better. The power in our love is more than just sex. That’s my point, I guess. I don’t have sex with my boyfriend. I make love to him. We don’t just fuck, put our clothes back on, and go on with our lives. We undress, we kiss, we make love, and when it’s all said and done, we enjoy the silent, beautiful moments where our naked bodies lie so close to each other. That’s our favorite part. The passion, the connection, and the beauty is what makes this more than just another stupid, careless, horny couple. We are set apart from the rest of these people. People notice, and I’m given the names. I’m the slut, the whore, the whatever other awful name they can come up with. And it’s awful. It’s hurtful. It slaughters my self esteem. People should not be seeing me that way. There is a lot more to me as a person. No person that has ever established that label with my name will understand the explanation I just gave of a very distinct difference between what they see, and what is actually going on. So the names will continue. I just wish they would stop. They’re tearing me apart.

As if I know you.

Wednesday, January 23rd, 2013

It’s funny really, how long ago it was that I could call myself your girlfriend.

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You guys have to understand, this was my first real relationship. Sure, I was only a freshman in high school, but this puppy love consumed my life, and I was so devastated when he broke my heart. I never stopped to realize that their was a bigger and better love out there waiting for me. But this is not what I’m writing about, I just thought some previous background may be necessary.

As I mentioned before, this ex-boyfriend of mine was best friends with the boy from my school that hung himself a few days ago. Through my relationship with my boyfriend, I had gotten to know this boy pretty well, and this loss is tragic. Regardless, right now I am concerned more so about my ex-boyfriend. I’ve haven’t ever watched him cope with death, because the death of another student from out school that affected our lives was not at the time when him and I were together, but after a year of being his love and his best friend, I learned a great deal of things about him. I know his moods, his body language, his facial expressions; all of that stuff. Today was our first day back to school since this boy’s death. I wasn’t sure if I would be seeing my ex in school today… In all honesty, I hate referring to him as that, because yes, that is what relation he has to me, but he is also a best friend to me, to this very day and someone who I care very deeply for, keep that in mind. Anyway, like I said, I wasn’t sure if I would see him in school today, though I was desperately hoping I would, because I was very worried about him, since I had not heard from him since the night we talked on the phone after receiving news of this boy’s death. After entering the school this morning and breaking down into a fit of tears, I thought their was no possible way that he could make it through today if all I had done was walk through the door and began to cry. But much to the surprise of many people, not only was my ex in school today, but so was this boy’s girlfriend, who had found him hanging. This sent shock waves through the school, trying to watch her cope with this pain. After seeing her, I knew my ex was in school. We have fourth period together, and the moment I walked into the room, I saw him being hugged by two other boys in our class. Right after I had walked to my desk to put down my stuff, my ex and I were in each other’s arms. I haven’t hugged him since two months after we broke up seven months ago. Even that was a long time ago. Both of us burst into tears. And you know what? Even though it was clear that he had more right to suffer than I had he asked me, “Are you okay?” He asked me. And it was in that moment that I swore I loved him once again. I remembered every reason I ever had to love him solely because he asked me when I should have been asking him. There is no other person like him. I will love him always, despite anything that has happened between him and I in the past. There are no more cards left for either of us to play in the terms of a relationship, but we will forever love each other deeply, and I genuinely, sincerely mean that. But even now, so much time has past. i know more of who he used to be, and less of who he is now. I do understand him at times where others do not, because I know the innocent childlike side of him, but the shield he has put up now is too tough to break. I will forever love him, but it’s that weaker, innocent side of him that I treasure. The other, more predominant side is unfamiliar. And that is a territory I will not attempt to enter. As if he would let me in anyway. As if I know him.