I don't think I liked him that much
He jibed at me for my pencils and sushi eraser. I hated him. I hated him for his arrogance, his disdain, his rudeness. All the while he was smitten by my stellar light speed math skills. Yes, I know how to win those jock boys...Math stirred the strings
It started in Precalculus Honors, or so he says. He jibed at me for my pencils and sushi eraser. I hated him. I hated him for his arrogance, his disdain, his rudeness. All the while he was smitten by my stellar light speed math skills. Yes, I know how to win those jock boys. It took six months of future awkward encounters and chance meetings before we started dating . I left for Mexico and transformed before the eyes of my high school. He was too afraid to approach me then; I appeared untouchable and even unreachable. Previously unknown quiet asian girl poses challenge to popular lacrosse player?
Precalc Honors morphed into partnership in Calculus class. Math stirred the strings of his heart, while my heart was set on his look-alike friend. Desperate, I just danced in the words he spun around me, until it was completely tangled in the web cast around me. I started down a tragic path of anxiety, torment, and confusion. Our relationship was not what I dreamed love to be. Was this what love felt like? Do I lose myself to a boy who I could not love? His secrets and pains and illnesses were overwhelming. I let them envelop me. I got lost in his world and forgot who I was.
Graduation was approaching. We broke up. He didn't want to be tied down. He told me I was too much work. Like I was a chore or something. Too much responsibility. He wanted to be free. I was hit by this tornado of devastation. I wasn’t sure if I could be alone anymore. I had grown incredibly dependent. It was hard to get back up. I started sprouting white hairs and sounding like a broken tape player to my friends. I was starting to annoy myself. He was ruining my life and I would never ever recover.
Prom came, I found another boy. We hadn’t spoken in a month. He was devastated. He wanted me back. I had just gotten on my feet, and he was already dragging me back down. I stood my ground for about a week, and then I gave in. I was too kind and too pitying of my humbled yet relentless ex. We met again in Japan. We frolicked, we played, we ate. An unfortunate tryst ended our fleeting and precarious second relationship.
Again we met in San Francisco, in which it ended by me furiously rushing out of his house yelling at him, frustrated for who he was, how he was, and how things ended. Everything was spinning out of control. I thought I could handle it. But pretty soon our whole high school knew what had happened, and I could not escape the notorious story that I created for myself.
The drama, the stress, was it love? Was what I had love? Over a year has passed and yet the unfolding of events still has me baffled. I really trusted him, and then he was gone. I am still hurt. By the way I was cast away so quickly and effortlessly, by the mockery I was subjected to, by the way I gave my trust to him. Did I hurt him so much that he needed to be so cruel?
A few months passed. I saw him at the New Year’s Party. He was avoiding me. I asked him a question and he ignored me. We haven’t spoken since.