1 Month

He’s the one. I knew it from the first moment I saw him. It was a little irrational, but I fell head over heels for him. His soft, dark brown eyes and large protective arms around me made me feel like I was the girl in all the romantic movies, envied by all others, who fell in love with the perfect guy.

Our first date was like any typical date. His father drove us in his leather seated Lexus to the AMC Movie Theaters. The car ride was thrilling, as we held hands and quickly let go as his father’s eyes met our eyes through the rearview mirror. The possibility of getting caught by his strict, authoritative dad sent excitement through my body.

We sat in the back row of the dark and large movie theater. A little awkward until the lights dimmed, I was finally able to settle more comfortably into my seat. I was nervous that my expectations for my first date would not be met. Towards the middle of the long “Pirates of the Caribbean” movie, he wrapped his arms around me. It felt nice and warm. My heart was beating fast inside my chest. He took his finger and brushed it along my cheeks. It sent a hot sensation through my face, as I blushed with embarrassment and nervousness. His lips then touched mine, perfectly molding together. It was like an adrenaline rush. He was the perfect guy in my eyes, but not everyone agreed with me.

My friends urged me to stay away. My best friend described him as a “bad boy.” I was hurt. I couldn’t believe my best friend would say that about this boy I loved. If he was a real friend, he would be more supportive. Worst of all, even my mom warned me to be careful as it seemed to her I was obsessed over a boy I just met. I knew she was wrong; I loved Brian, so I ignored everyone around me.

6 Months

I was changing, getting into more numerous and frequent fights with my mom. We’d always been like friends, but at that time we did more yelling and screaming than any civilized talking. I locked myself in my room. My mom pounded on the door, demanding that I open the door. I blocked out her threats to kick me out of the house. I just sat in the corner of my fuzzy, green carpeted room and rocked myself to sleep with my hands in fists. I was so angry, my veins in my wrists exploding through my skin. I slowly fell asleep as the pounding on my door turned into knocks, which turned into taps, until nothing. This happened almost every night. I isolated myself from everyone but Brian. It didn’t bother me I was getting closer and closer to Brian. I felt a connection with him unlike any I’d had before.

We talked on the phone for hours until my voice grew raspy. I immersed myself in the relationship like a child completely awed by a magician in a magic show. I couldn’t concentrate on homework, school, or my job. I dreaded the weekdays. I couldn’t wait until the weekend so I could be reunited with Brian.

I was blinded by Brian’s way of making me feel so comfortable and confident. I loved his sensitivity, he always knew what to say to make my knees grow weak, and the touch of his skin on mine made me want to jump in pleasure. I loved his wet and warm lips on mine when we kissed, the soft way he would whisper on the phone in the late night in hopes of not getting caught, and his hard, rough fingers interlaced with mine. I knew he was different, someone I could see myself with in the future.

1 Year

We had been having fights. How could this happen? We were supposed to be perfect for each other. I started to notice how far from perfect he was. He constantly came to our dates late, he was irresponsible, didn’t have a job, and had no motivation for his life. His life was at a different place than mine. I couldn’t understand why he kept bringing more trouble to his life. He already had gotten into a car accident, 5 speeding tickets, got arrested for selling knives at school, and stole a camera. I was the one who was there for him.

I remember the day I got that phone call that almost made my heart stop pumping. His shaking voice said, “I got into a car accident.” For a minute the only sound heart was the buzzing of the phone, as I tried to process the situation. My first instinct was to get wherever he was. However, reality hit in. I had work in 15 minutes. I knew I had to go get him, who else would? I immediately dialed the number of my boss and quickly explained my situation with no pause for breath. My heart was beating a million beats per minute as I got into my silver SUV Infiniti and sped over to the location of the car accident on Deerfield Road. I saw the blue and red lights ahead and slowed down and pulled to the side of the curb. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was to come next. I saw Brian standing in a muscle shirt with ripped jeans, looking like a real convict. There was a deep purple reddish gash across his left shoulder where the seatbelt dug into his skin. I ran over to hug him and kissed his lips, just happy that he was not hurt. The police officer, standing tall and official, strutted toward us. He said, “We need a $75 bail because of all his speeding tickets.”

I groaned. I didn’t know where I would get that kind of money and I knew Brian wouldn’t have that money lying around. Then I remembered that I had my pay check from work at my house. I let the police officer take Brian away in the back of his car. It was a horrible sight to see. I drove back to my house in a hurry and drove all the way back to the police station. I paid the officer my hard earned pay check and saved Brian that day. That was the day that really made me think. He had no motivation and no life goals. We were different.

I met him at my home church that I have been attending since I was five. I didn’t know someone who went to the same church could be so different than I. I wanted so badly to help him out and believed that everyone deserved a second chance. He never did change.

I felt like more of a mother figure to Brian than his girlfriend. I was always nagging at him to care about his future and he started to get very annoyed with me. I could tell, but I couldn’t just stop caring. Everything kept piling up. Stress after stress was making me sick. I felt I had a two thousand pound elephant on my chest. I loved him though, I couldn’t give up and I didn’t because I had invested too much to give up.

1 year 6 months

Tears rippled down my face. They poured out like a running faucet and they wouldn’t end. All he said was “I can’t do this anymore.” After all the times I helped him out, he left me with nothing. I felt my heart was ripped in two. I was a wreck for weeks. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and all the memories we made. He easily got other girlfriends days after and went off to party and live life.

I knew from that moment it was him I felt sorry for. He would never know what life has to offer. He hurt me deep, like a cut that leaves a permanent scar.
I won’t be able to forget him, he was my first love. The cut he left on me was deep and permanent, but the gash has been healing. My friends and family has helped the gash heal. I realized that they were the ones I could count on, not Brian. The cut hurts sometimes, but it’s something of my past and I will move on.