Six Months? Pfft, Don't Make Me Laugh

   Sometimes I wonder if I could go back in time and change everything and not have ever met him, Steve, would I change it all? Would I give up knowing him so I wouldn't have to go through what I am now? Or would I keep it the way it is? Would I rather have known him, loved him and lost him, or not ever have known him at all and never known real love?

   I think I would keep things the way they are but sometimes, I also almost kinda wish I had never even met him. If I had never met him, then I wouldn't have any inhibitions about dating other guys and maybe I would be more satisfied with my life like I was before I met him.

   Before I met him, I wanted a boyfriend really bad. I even went out with this one guy that I only kinda liked just to say I'd had a boyfriend. We dated a month and a half before I broke up with him. He was my first kiss and in my opinion, it was horrible and he just made it even worse by implying that I wasn't even all that good at kissing. And I felt nothing at all when he kissed me. I mean, I didn't expect to see fireworks or anything like that, but I just thought I would feel something. The kiss was weird and . . . I don't know, I just totally wasn't into it. And when we broke up I still didn't wanna go right out and get another boyfriend but I knew there would be other guys. I knew I still wanted to date.

   But then I met Steve and when he kissed me, it made me feel. It wasn't horrible at all. It was amazing. I was kinda scared that he would think I was bad at kissing too and I didn't want to disappoint him because I know he's been around, but he didn't put me down. He built me up. He told me I was really good at it and I don't know which one was right but I like to think Steve is. But the point is, Steve's kisses weren't totally awful. His were so nice and I didn't want to just push him away like I wanted to do with my first boyfriend. Steve made my heart beat faster. And when we were separated, I felt like I would never find another guy as amazing as he was. It's been almost six months since I've even seen him and I still don't think I'm ready to date anyone else. Guys have asked for my number and I give it to them, hoping that maybe I'll really go out with them and they can help me get over him, but things never work out. I always back away because I know I can't do it. I don't want to date anyone else. I know I was never officially dating him but it felt like we were together and he thought we were (but he never really asked me out so it was never really official) and he was so great. I don't think I'll ever find anyone like him.

   I think I'm ruined. I think he ruined me for other guys. I don't want to see anyone but Steve. He made me feel. He made me happy too, for the most part. He showed me what it feels like to be in love. I know he doesn't love me back, but I still love him. It hurts to not ever see him or hang out with him anymore.
  
   I still talk to him sometimes on Facebook. He invited me to move to Omaha with him again. He tells me he still has feelings for me and he wishes I was closer so we could be together again. I think it's best this way, with over a hundred miles between us. That way there is no chance of us running into each other and I deactivated my Facebook account so I hopefully won't talk to him anymore and maybe I can move on a little bit quicker.

   I heard it takes about six months to get over someone, but if that's really true, then why are my feelings for him not fading? Six months, my ass. Puhleeze. It takes a helluva lot longer than six months to get over someone you gave your virginity too. Someone you spent hours with almost every single day. Someone who became your best, non-relative, friend. Someone you came to love. Six months? Pfft, don't make me laugh.

He Was Special

   There was just something about him. Something about the way he smiled. The way he laughed. The way that he always encouraged me to talk more like he actually wanted to hear what I had to say.

   I don't know . . . There was just something about him. Something different. Something special.

   I remember when we used to work together and he and one of the other guys would always say something about me, trying to get a rise out of me, but I was never really paying attention and I never heard what they said. Or when he would check me out and he always thought I didn't notice.

   I loved his reaction when he found out I didn't like people to cuss around me, because he had a dirty mouth. The look on his face was priceless. Every time he would cuss around me after that he always gave me permission to hit him. I never did. But he got a lot better at not cussing around me.

   And I remember when, once upon a time, he and his cousin were afraid to smoke pot around me. I think I liked it better when he didn't do it around me. I mean, yeah, I've thought about doing it and I maybe might even want to try it to, but . . . I don't know, I just kind of felt like he was disrespecting me when he did it around me. I never said anything though, so it's not like I ever asked him to not do it while I was around and he still did. So he wasn't really disrespecting me, but it just felt that way sometimes.

   He was special though. He still is. I don't think I'll ever forget him. I probably won't ever see him again now that he moved to Omaha but I won't ever forget him.

   He could make me smile when I was having a bad day and just wanted to give up. He made me want to be myself. He made me wonder what love was like. He made me want to do things that were exciting and new.

   If I could go back in time and not ever have worked at McDonalds and met him and gone through all of the shit that I've been put through, I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't change a damn thing. Because for all of the shit that my sister and her husband made me go through for being with him, I still love him. And I wouldn't give up that love for anything. I think I would rather have loved and lost than not ever have known that love at all.

It Felt Like A Job

   It felt like a fucking job.

   The first time I had sex I was trashed and I don't know how "with it" I was. I had drank WAY too much that night and I was so drunk I was stumbling around. And it hurt but I was drunk so the pain didn't matter too much. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to feel his love. I know what you're thinking though. Sex doesn't mean you love each other. I know that. I just thought that maybe if I gave in like he wanted me to, he would like me more, ya know? Pretty sure it didn't make him like me any more.

   But yeah, so I did it with him. And then I just felt like after I'd done it with him once, I had to keep doing it. I know I didn't have to and I could have told him no, but the truth is, I didn't want to tell him no because I just wanted to feel his touch, his kisses. And I thought it would be unfair of me to do it once and then tell him no after that.

   So I kept putting out. It didn't make him love me. It didn't make him like me any more than he did before. It didn't change anything really. And it felt like something I had to do so it wasn't even fun. It felt like a job. It felt like a fucking job.