He kissed my lips with the taste of beer on his. I pull away with a smile, even though everything about him disgusts me. I continue to kiss him and the bitter taste lessens. Everyone’s laughing and saying they knew we’d be great together. Why? This insults me in a way, but I guess I’m not doing myself any favors by continuing to kiss him, letting his big, sloppy hands slide over my hips. I push him off me after a while, and go sit down and my best friends are smiling and saying they are happy for me. All I can think is I’m not sure how that can be when my insides are crying from humiliation and disappointment, and my lips are tainted and I can’t even look at myself in the mirror. I’ve ripped myself apart for the sake of being whole in someone else’s eyes, and some way, some how, I’m surprised when I feel like a fraction. I feel different, sure.
But this wasn’t what I was looking for.