If you follow me on Instagram, then you might recall a recent caption that went something like: a boy once told me, “you’re better off without me” and damn right I am. He said that in a context completely different than what I’m about to tell you, but if I didn’t know better, I would call him psychic.

He knows how to be sweet and he knows how to make you feel like you’ve got everything he’s been looking for. He’s cute as hell and he knows it, and on anyone else that kind of arrogance would be unappealing. But for him? It only adds to his charm. I’m still trying to figure out how much of his attractiveness has a foothold in reality and how much of it my crush built up. And let me tell you, I liked him from the moment I saw him. Since we’re being honest here, I’ll admit: as soon as he walked into the room he was the only thing that got my eyes.

As of right now, I have never had a boyfriend, never had sex, and before him, never kissed anyone. Especially under the circumstances, I’m sure you can imagine that it’s a little difficult to not get too excited or invested when someone you have a crush on shows even remote interest in you. If my friends didn’t know everything that was going on and hadn’t kept a hawk eye on me, he probably would’ve gotten almost anything he wanted from me in time.

It felt exciting to get a text back from him–like getting messaged back by your crush in high school. His compliments made me go “aw shucks, stop it.” (No, don’t stop.) Hanging out with him was so much fun. I loved seeing the way he was with his friends and the way he was when he was alone. I think my favorite part was seeing him when he was worn down. Not that I enjoyed seeing him ill. What I liked was the way he didn’t try to be cool and collected. It was raw, human, real. And physical contact with him was great. It was everything I always imagined having with a boyfriend. I loved his fingers on me, the way he took my hand to lead me through a crowd, the way he pressed me up against a wall to kiss me, and even the way he tasted like cigarettes, alcohol, and something else that I couldn’t quite put a finger on. It may have happened only once, but it was enough to mean something to me. I guess that was my mistake.

My first clue should have been the way he seems to enjoy being the stereotypical image of a fuckboy. What kind of person who was raised right wants to be one? Everyone and their mother told me from the start that he’s a bad idea and I should stay far, far away. I knew it too. Everyone told me how turned off they were by his habits. And to be honest, I was too. But I couldn’t help myself. It was only after he made me feel like he didn’t want to talk to me anymore that I snapped out of it and took a step back.

Though all of these things might have been clear to everyone else from day 1, it was only recently that I began to realize them. It hit me too late that he was still talking to his ex. It hit me days later that he stopped talking to me the second things started going places with her. It hit me a week later that all the times he left me hanging before were likely because he found another girl to play with. And it hit me a couple of days ago that I was nothing but a rebound.

The one thing I want to ask him is: why did you have to make me feel like you liked me? You knowI’m not that kind of girl. I wish you had wanted to get to know me as a person instead of pursuing the fantasty that I was a fuccgirl masquerading as a girl-next-door type. I’m not. I wasn’t playing games with you. I genuinely liked you. A lot! I wasn’t trying to seem innocent! I’m not claiming to beinnocent! But I wasn’t playing hard to get. I’m just new to this–to getting somewhere with someone. To admitting that I’m interested in someone. To guys like you. If you changed your mind, that’s alright. But you let me hit the ground hard and I don’t think you even looked back.

If you think it sounds shitty from an outside perspective, try being the rebound. Don’t ever do it to someone. It fucking sucks. I don’t know what’s worse: someone knowingly stringing you along when their heart isn’t really in it, or blindly being dragged around believing that you’re being led somewhere special. If you’ve just broken up with someone, regardless of how long or short the relationship was, give yourself ample time to get over them WITHOUT bringing someone else into the picture. That isn’t fair to you because you aren’t giving yourself the alone time that you need with yourself, and it sure as hell isn’t fair to them because everyone deserves someone who isn’t using them as a transitioning tool. People are not therapeutic shopping sprees or stress balls. You cannot use them up and then toss them aside like dirty laundry.

If he reads this, he'll probably think I’m being dramatic. To him, I was just a stepping stone–a friend; temporarily a distraction; and for a short bit, a game. I would bet all the money (that I don’t even have) that things easily took a 180 for him and we’re  back to the platonic friends we started out as. To him, the emotional rollercoaster only happened in my head. To him, this is just another hazy memory.

Published by Lulu Michelle