18 Years Part 2

"This world can hurt you

It cuts you deep and leaves a scar

Things fall apart, but nothing breaks like a heart"

So true Miley Cirus, so dam true.

I embarrassed the fuck out of myself that night. It's the first of two instances in my entire life where I have been out of control drunk. I cried, people fed me alcohol, and then some sweet older girl put me in the van with the stoners to look after me for a bit. Lol. Got hotboxed. I don't know if I sat in there for two minutes or two hours but somehow I managed to get out of the van and stumble down an insanely steep hill back to the party. Did I mention it was an outdoor party in torrential rain?! One massive tarp and the back room of the house for us drunken teens, all on a cleared dirt block awaiting a house to be built. Absolute downpour. So how I made it down that hill I will never know, but I made it back to the dance floor and proceeded to sob and drink and make out with a handful of guys I knew who comforted me and encouraged me to forget him and his shit because he didn't deserve me. I'm sure he saw it all. And I think his girlfriend wasn't impressed. I think they left at some point. Lol.

After that, I think I sobered up a bit and went back to my friends. Then my girlfriend came and told me one of the older guys in our group wanted to hook up with me. He was hot. Her ex, but hey, that's small towns. Did I mention hot? So I told her to bring him over and we proceeded to dance before cuddling up on the couch to make out, hard. It was so fucking awesome. That was a nice happy moment. At some point, the party wound down and everyone started to fold out their sleeping bags and mats. I quickly realised I had neither of these things and went over to my hot make-out guy, who kindly let me under his blankets and cuddled me. I remember us face to face, wanting to go further, not touching but that weird electricity in the air. He started to feel me up and I was loving it, yet so damn wasted and exhausted I couldn't give the obligatory 'movement' to let him know I was enjoying it. AND I remember thinking "Fuck girl kiss him get in there, move body move," but it wouldn't. The body was done for the day. I think what happened to me was 'beer after grass and I was on my arse.'

Thing is, I actually really liked him, and if I wasn't so hung up on dick face I could have probably had a nice little high school romance with a really lovely guy. But nope!!! Chose the vampire.

Just to clarify... I'm not calling *Johnathon a vampire because he sucked the life out of me, although most times it felt that way. Apparently, vampires can communicate or affect the dreams of people they have bitten. That they have a constant attachment to them, sometimes a spell. I'm going for that angle because it's much more romantic and relatively true. But I will get to that later.

I think I hated on *Jonathon for a while after that. Schoolgirl 'greasies' and ignoring him, facing my back to him at lunch, sitting with my girlfriends on the bus, silly shit like that. I put on a brave face but inside I was hurting. Hating was easier than hurting. I can't remember what happened next. Either I got a boyfriend or he apologised or both. We went back to our usual flirting and catching each other's looks and smiles. I'm sure everyone around us saw it and knew about it. That is pretty embarrassing when I think about it now, but I was unaware in my little infatuation bubble and I didn't care about much else.

As we got older and high school dragged on I started to acknowledge that he would never choose me, and despite still wanting him more than ever I decided to date other guys and do the normal teenage shit. Between boyfriend's, it was all him. During boyfriends, it was hating on him or trying to get along with him. Neither of us did well at either of these angles, just two silly kids.

Sometimes he would have older girls caught up in his shit. Flirting with them, sometimes in front of me. They ate it up as he was very charming and cheeky and super flirtatious. He was also dark and handsome with a beautiful smile. What high school girl wouldn't love that.

It fucking hurt, seeing him all over these hot older girls, seeing them get all the attention that I thought was saved for me. One time one of them knew about me and she was jealous. Not in a nasty way, but I realised one night at a school event that he had us both in the same position, thinking he felt the same way about us, jealous of the other. That was pretty shit because she is a lovely person and I hated her. I hated her because she seemed to have everything I didn't.... his attention. So that night at the event she seemed angry with him, I think it was because we were spending time together, and that's when I realised he had us both in the palm of his hand. Thought he was the fucking man with all these girls eating up his playa lines and soaking up his affection. He started dancing with me, like, we were heavy dirty dancing to 'Nelly and Kelly, Dilemma,' eyes locked on each other, having an intense moment. My best friend at the time got extremely jealous and upset. Dumb girl, there was ANOTHER opportunity I had to have a nice little high school romance with a sweet guy who would have treated me with respect and loved. But nope, wanted *Johnathon. I had my blinders on with him, always.

Somehow he asked to walk me home, maybe she had the shits with him and he chose me as plan B. We walked home holding hands and I was so dam happy. I felt like I had won. We got to my street and took cover from the rain. He pulled me onto his lap and we had a mad make-out sesh. When you're 15 what's the total worst that could happen at that moment...? Your Mum coming down the street to get you...? Yeah, that happened. She told us to go into the house, and when I went to change into dry clothes she gave him a serve. Stern, low toned and very parental. From what I remember he was very apologetic and polite and took it all on the chin. Fuck I wanted to die and melt into the walls and run all at the same time. SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING!! How can I impress this gorgeous older guy when my Mum has reprimanded him! He's never going to talk to me again. I was so angry with my Mum.

I remember clearly his last day of high school. I was pretty worried because I didn't know how I would see him any more? I felt like I was about to lose him and I had no idea how I would survive school without him there. I was trying so hard all day to get him alone for a chat. Eventually, I got a chance and sat next to him on a seat, nobody around, and started talking to him. He looked at me and said, "Am I the love of your life?"

"Yes," I said without having to even think about the answer

"How can I be the love of your life when you haven't been through your whole life yet?"

I can't remember my response, but I know I mumbled some words because I honestly felt like it was a trap question. Then, he left. High school dragged on and finally ended. I moved away with a beautiful boyfriend and started a new life in the city. *Johnathon sunk down into the back of my mind, but never left it. I still carried the scars and the trust issues.

It sounds like he was a terrible person and high school was a nightmare. High school was the fucking worst. Admittedly he treated me horribly at times and handled things in the wrong way, but what did I like about him? What did he do that was right...?

He gave me comfort. He had such a warm, gentle, caring, sensitive side that gave me so much comfort when inside I was so stressed and hurt from the shit happening with my parents. When I looked into his eyes and met his look I felt warm and protected, it always seemed like he was looking right into me, trying to understand me, making sure I believed how much he cared. He made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, in his world, and that I was wanted, needed... loved. He always made me smile, continuously. He always made me laugh, and all his flirting and trying to put the moves on me was entertaining and a welcome distraction. It helped me cope with my life. When I was around him I felt so happy, I adored him more than anything in the world. I saw the good person between the lines, and I loved that person unconditionally. The real him was perfect in my eyes. The games and lies and other shit, I hated that guy, but I endured it day after day, year after year in hope for those times he would reveal his true self. Maybe one day he would see my devotion and love for him and want to fulfil all the promises he had made me? I would be his girl, he would look after me, he would love me, he would be with me. He offered me ideas of love and stability and commitment that I didn't have at home, I was so young and vulnerable that I believed it even though my gut told me not to. Still, I wouldn't have made it through school as well as I did if it wasn't for him. He will probably never understand the good he did. I never told him. I only ever told him off when he hurt me. Perhaps I should have told him how much he meant to me.

After school, we managed to cross paths all the time. No matter how far away I moved or where he was, we always found a way back to each other.

Sometimes I would be out at the pub or a party and someone would approach me to tell me he was there, but I never managed to find him before he left.

When I was 20 I moved to another state quite far from home. He had no idea I was there, yet one night he called me at some ridiculous hour. It was so out of the blue. We hadn't spoken in years, yet I suddenly turned back into that teenage girl who met him in the dark. I was all giggly and shy, his voice was deep and soothing with a seductive growl.

"Hey bub,"

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(Photo by Claudia on Unsplash)