_________

No one wants to hear stories about girls like us. They want romantic stories of girls who meet their destined love and their whole world opens up and gives way to a million opportunities. I’ve read about them countless times, over and over. It’s a story I never tire of. I love that this girl who doesn’t consider herself amazing and lacks confidence seems to find it slowly. I love how she meets someone who she just clicks with. Yes, sometimes there are hard patches between them but in the end it always works out.

No one wants to hear about the girl who is with a guy she can’t even make up her mind about. He wouldn’t be the main character. He’d last a chapter or two and she’d meet the real prince in the story later on. I could write a teen angst story with my eyes closed. They’re predictable and I love them.

But what about a story like mine?

When I laid eyes on you my heart skipped a beat. You weren’t terribly handsome, nothing about you stood out at all. Does me telling you this insult you? I doubt it will. I imagine you smiling and shaking your head at me.

In our first conversation I was fascinated by you. I had to get to know you better. Every part of me wanted to know every part of you. Oh my- doesn’t that sound lustful? Deep down I am a naïve girl. I wasn’t even thinking about sex, I just wanted to know you and be with you.

And I did, and with every passing day I grew to like you more and more. I didn’t try to control it or stop it. I just went with it. I remember the night I was sitting on the bench with you. I was so comfortable with you. Everything felt so natural.

And then you kissed me, and I was so shocked. And you kept kissing me. And it was a scene I replied over and over in my mind like a bad movie. It’s what got me through my mission. Thinking about seeing you again- it’s what got me through every mission.

Work got me away from you. I was struggling more and more with my feelings for you. I was so scared of what I thought I might feel. I tried to convince myself I didn’t care about you. I tried to tell myself I was just using you to pass the time. That you didn’t feel the way I did about you.

I did something stupid while I was away from you. I remember you telling me you’d only be okay with it if I would go with other people. How easy it would be if I didn’t care for you so much, if I wasn’t so determined to be loyal to you and only you. If only I didn’t care, if only I could be a cruel woman who enjoyed different men for different occasions.

The sad part is that I am that woman. I became her during my last relationship. A deadly woman who took her fill from whomever she pleased. How could I explain to you that I didn’t want to be her anymore? I remember telling you how easy it was to do things, how a true lady never reveals that she a manipulator at heart, a master of many.

When I was away from you I would mumble to myself that you didn’t want the same things. A bad romance doomed from the start, that’s what we had. You didn’t want me. I felt so hurt. What was I lacking? Where did I go wrong in my attempt you win your love?

The dirty vixen, she came crawling out from her slumber. With a yawn and a stretch she murmurs to me: Darling. Darling. Darling. Look at all these men. Surely we can have some fun here. And we played a bit around with some hearts and minds with such ease and grace it amazed me that I hadn’t forgotten after all- the secrets to men’s hearts.

Eventually I came back. I saw you and I wanted to weep. What have I done? I love you. I love you. I love you. This man whom is and isn’t mine. I love you. This man who makes me feel more alive than I have my whole life, this man who cherishes me and makes me wish I could give him everything.

And finally I work up the courage to admit that I do. And you tell me you feel the same way. You love me- but it doesn’t change anything.

When I finally admit to loving you it felt like I was saying good bye to my old self. My love isn’t pure or sweet. It’s tainted by this dirty vixen. She smiles, amused by me loving you despite everything. She goes over and convinces three young unsuspecting men that confessing to her will change their lives. She turns them all down but gives hope to one.

“Wait for me.” She teases him with a wink. I want to slap her, I hate it when she gets bored and wants to corrupt people. The sad part is that she is me. She wants to kiss him just to see what it feels like- she has no interest in him. The poor sap on the other hand is in love.

She seduces another and another. She loves her fun.

I want to cry- they aren’t the same. They can’t fill this need of mine. Their passion cannot match my own, their interests are far from mine, the conversations lack excitement, the teasing is boring.

Our romance is doomed. You whisper to me sweetly you can picture yourself with me for the rest of your life. You tell me you can easily do it with me. But you refuse.

My heart weeps- but every other part of me is fine with it. As long as you are around me in some form… I swear I will be fine.