I remember moments, not days
by
Jay's world
-.-
He loves me not
-.-
The first boy I kissed was Asbjørn. I was four and he was three. It was a peck on the cheek to symbolize our relationship.
We broke up the next day. I can't remember why.
The second was Even. Seventh grade. We held hands and stole looks. Then I shot up to the roof like Jack's magic beens.
He broke up with me almost immediately.
Boys didn't look at me after that. I was taller than them. Awkward. Thin. I didn't have breasts like the other girls. I was abnormal.
The third boy I kissed was my teacher. He was thirty, a ballet instructor, and gay. I kissed him on the cheek over and over again as a thank you when he bought me my first ballet shoes. I was thirteen.
Up until I was nineteen, I didn't even think about boys. My world was ballet. Nothing else mattered.
When I got to New York on the scholarship, the other Norwegians bought booze and got drunk. One time.
I lost my virginity to a boy with a mono-brow. I haven't seen him again
I've never loved anyone before. No one has ever loved me. Now I love someone. And he doesn't love me back.
It leaves me more hollow than when I didn't love at all.
Now, to drown my sorrows in a bottle of Morgan... Happy thoughts!