Young and impressionable, I truly believed that you were simply shy and sweet and cute to boot. I felt lonely and unnoticed at times when you came on the scene of my life, and it was perfect timing for you to come in with your night in shining armor disguise. A new kid on the block, you saw something in me that drew you to my side and I was flattered and pleased to be noticed in a new way. Surely, this boy, this one boy, could be the one that I was searching for right? After all, opposites attract, right? I could not have been further from the truth. I was irritated at the very obvious fact that you were not mature enough to be dating me. Did that stop me from 9 months of dating you? “The slow learner is taught the lesson by repetition.” I tried to understand you, I tried to fix you, I tried to change you. I fell for excuses and put up with inappropriate behavior because I so craved the feeling of being loved I refused to acknowledge the truth-we were not compatible.
Possibly the worst feeling was feeling jaded. My hand limp at my side unheld and my lips puckered yet unkissed while her sheets were unkept and you both showing signs of lack of sleep.
What was it about me? Was it my moral standards? Was it my sense of self respect? Was it my pushy and demanding confidence?
Or maybe it wasn’t me at all.
Was it your shy nature? Was it your tendency toward deception? Was it your love of physical pleasure and displacement towards emotional intimacy? Was it the language barrier? Was it just bad timing?
Or was it a passionate night at a Korean summer camp with a stranger and a lie that you were too ashamed to admit until a wasted night and a drunken voicemail on my machine.