My Love(less?) Life

I guess I really don't have anything better to do, and it's not like anyone is probably going to read the whole thing, but for those of you who are interested in someone else life (or lack thereof) I guess I can oblige for a bit.

Now, not including anything before middle school, I've only had a few 'loves' in my short life. I've recently gotten out of High School, trying to look for a job (and failing miserably at it) just to give a timeline of how old I am now.

It all started in my Japanese class. There was a girl who I knew from elementary school, we didn't get along at all, but then she moved away, and I found out she moved back and was taking the class because she was a weeaboo. I took the class because I am part Japanese and I wanted to get in touch with that part of my heritage. At first, old feelings from elementary school were still kinda settled in, but the teacher paired us up on an assignment.

At first, the two of us were quite reluctant to work with each other. We quickly decided what part of the workload each of us were going to do, and set off doing our work. We worked at a faster pace than most of the class because as kids, they generally fooled around, but soon, we were done. I remember always having a book in my backpack to read during school, but I was a bit of a weeaboo myself so this particular book was a manga that I had been reading at that time. She pulled out a sketchbook and got down to work with intense focus. I could feel her eyes on me, but I thought she was staring at me with cold eyes due to my usual cynical nature.

Soon, I got done with the book (it's not like it takes very long to read one of those things) and at an attempt to strike up some kind of conversation, I asked what she was drawing. She showed me, and she was a talented artist of things other than cliche school girl anime drawings. She had pictures of beautiful environments. She then asked me what I was reading and after that, the conversation really picked up.

Days passed, and soon we were really good friends. We caught up on what we did in middle school, friends, interests, normal things. We started flirting a lot as well. I didn't realize I was flirting at the time, I never thought that I was very charming and I was never really well liked in middle school, I was the loner. What I did know was that I felt a tightening, warm feeling being around you. I started showing up early just so I could see you and whenever I got the chance, I made sure we were together just so I could be with you. I started to crave your being.

I had no idea that she liked me, even when she started dropping huge hints. I was completely oblivious to anything about girls. Then came the day when the mutual friend did her dirty work for her as kids usually do.

"So...Do you like Shelby?", she asked, with that look I would soon learn that girls would always have when they are asking on behalf of their smitten friend or really anytime when they were hiding a secret.

"Well...", I was trusting, if anything, too naive, "I-I guess so", I could feel my face start to heat up a bit, nobody can see it when I blush, but I know when it happens.

"Why?"

"Because",I was deathly embarrassed just from this short conversation. My mind was kicking me in the spine for letting her on, "Well she's pretty and funny and she's fun and I really like her laugh and...uhm...", I started rambling and thought it'd be best to stop spouting off stuff.

When I looked over, she just had this smirk on her face. I knew that look. That dirty, untrustworthy, smug lookShe was not to be trusted. I was in a panic. Life before that taught me that I was undesirable. Girls could not stand to so much as even look at me. I was a perv. I was creepy. My existence was a complete inconvenience to any females I knew (I had virtually no female friends except for two) and most of all, I was hated.

"You're not going to tell her right!? You can't!", if she did, I knew that that would be one more girl that would find me repulsive, and right after I had started to get to know her and have fun.

"No, of course not, you can trust me."

I knew that I couldn't. That may have been for the best. Or maybe with the way things are in the present, maybe it wasn't.

The next day, I was nervous to go to school. I knew her friend had told, that gut instinct that served me so well was kicking me in the spleen for being so foolish. I walked into class, and Shelby was the same as usual. I was relieved and I calmed a bit. Maybe she hadn't said anything after all. Then right after the bell rang, we went our separate ways but she left me with a note.

I was a bit confused as to why she'd give me a note out of class. I opened it up and read it; the words contained in that note are engraved into my mind even to this day. They said: "---- I really like you. Do you want to go out?"

As much as the words shocked me to the core, the fact that I was actually...wanted, what I remember the most was a girl. You drew a girl that looked like you. But I could tell that unlike your other drawings, this was not drawn just out of boredom. It was drawn with passion, with feeling. It was drawn with hopeful intentions. Every pencil stroke carried out with love. I still have that note. I could never find it in myself to deem something so heartfelt as trash.

Even if that heart is no longer there.

At first I was very wary, I was going to write a note denying her because I was so nervous, scared of what to actually do in a relationship. Scared that it could ruin our friendship. Petty, childish fears. My heart was pounding and seizing up inside me. My mind was sprinting thinking of ways to get out of it.

I was greeted with a mini stroke when Shelby popped up beside me moments later, impatience was a trait I would learn you possessed. I didn't have the nerve to deny someone in person, so almost speechless, I just nodded my head and with a nervous smile, I said yes. She squealed in delight, and hugged me.

That hug changed me. I don't know what it was, but that hug, I felt something click into place. You were so warm, and for the first time, I felt the warming embrace of another girl that I genuinely cared for.

Time went on, and we always hung out together. Always eating lunch together. You probably never knew how cute it was when you ate and made a small mess. At least you liked what you ate.

The first time I held your hand, I made sure that I'd remember the way it felt. I still do. It was so soft. So warm. I can almost feel the the ridges in my hand faintly like the ghost you now are to me. At that time, the only problem I was having was if my hand was too sweaty. In fact, I remember the first day we held hands.

I wanted to watch the sunrise with you. So I took you outside in front of our school and I sat there, and I think you started by linking your arm in mine. As our arms came to rest, my fingers soon found yours, like a magnetic attraction, and they settled. Kids made fun of us because unfortunately, in order to see the sunrise, we had to sit where the buses came in, but I was far from caring what they said. I had you.

As the days went on, we held hands, we hugged, but I could not bring myself to kiss you. I was a coward. I have a skin disease while though not contagious and not major enough to spread all over my body, it did cover my upper torso. I was afraid if she ever found out, she'd be disgusted with her discovery, my curse, and I was fearful of that pain. I was afraid that if we did kiss, it'd progress and she'd find out. I was also scared that if I was to kiss her, I might fall for her, making the pain worse if she ever did find out.

Every night and every morning, I'd make a plan to kiss her, but when it came time, I was still too cowardly. I felt my lips tingling thinking about it, and every time, I leaned in, and it came the time. But every moment, I hesitated, and the kiss became a hug. It was this cowardice that after about three months, ended it. Shelby broke up with me, and at first I was happy that I could finally stop being so fearful. People were almost shocked at the fact that I seemed so...detached. This detachment also surprised her, led her into believing that I didn't care for her anymore, or that I possible never did. I just never let any negative emotions show. Ever.

Later on in life, we moved on, and we remained good friends. There were multiple occasions where she liked me and the feeling was quite mutual. It was because of my stupidity and jealously that we never got back together. Whenever Shelby would ask me who I was crushing on, the inside of me was screaming to tell her the truth. To tell her how much she meant to me. Then 'logic' would overcome my heart. She's the one that broke up with you remember? She doesn't like you. I'd always tell her some other girl; a complete lie. I found out later, it was the same with her, though it was my detachment that led her to believe that I didn't like her, so she would always lie and tell me some other guy.

Soon, our lies became truth, and we did start dating other people, though as far as I'm concerned, there was always that piece of me that still yearned for her.

I remember a summer of content, a time you were single. So in one year, you not only began my knowledge on how much I could care for someone, you began to teach me the pleasure of the flesh. I liked a girl named Elissa, and I think she might have liked me, but I was more distracted with my love for you. I went over to that mutual friends house not for her, but because I knew you were spending the night there.

You two had almost pulled an all nighter and so was very tired. She appeared to be more exhausted then you were. I'd like to say that you were more alert because I was there, but that might be getting ahead of myself and feeding my own ego more than it deserves.

Her sister made smoothies. Who cares what kind? So long as we were both enjoying it. We got more...intimate than we probably ever had in person. I learned how to undo a bra. You wanted me to. Challenged me. You egged me on, telling me that other guys could do it with either hand. I remember the short burst of spit fire that erupted inside me just for mentioning other guys who had done what I was too much of a fucking idiot to do. I had to at least match them, and I quickly did.

Then, came the time when you struck with an opportunity I could not give up. Some of the smoothie 'dripped' onto your breasts. Even though our friend was sitting right there, even though her sister was so closer nearby, neither of us cared. I was caught up in sexual rapture, and you were in complete control. With my long tongue, I quickly cleaned it. Then I joined in and 'accidentally' spilled some of it on you. It continued until her friend subtly told us to stop. I tried to persuade you to come to the park with me, but at that time, you actually cared about what your mom thought, and so, you stayed where you were. Even though I was a bit saddened, I was caught in joy that I had never felt before.

That year, time passed and we continued on as friends as if that never happened as I found the other girl that I loved, but that's another story for another time. Eventually, that girl left for a bit, and so I moved back onto Shelby. I invited her to my 16th birthday party. As one of the most important people that had entered my life, I felt she had to be there.

I regret that.

She flirted with one of my friends there, I thought she was just trying to make me jealous. So I decided to flirt with another girl that was there. Unfortunately, the girl I was flirting with wasn't single, so it didn't progress much. Although Shelby did.

Her and my friend were laying in a bed together (it was a hotel party) and during the happy birthday song, everyone else got up, except them too. While I was genuinely happy that I had actually had a real party for the first time in my life (even if it wasn't my parents that held it) that when my friend and Shelby kissed, I didn't feel all that bummed out. I was numbed to it at that moment, but soon I felt so betrayed. Maybe I just wasn't that charming at that time, maybe he's just more likable than me, but the fact she could do that to me...

On a side note, I talked about it with him later and he was apologetic. He had no idea about the history or my feelings about Shelby.

The next year, Shelby started hanging out with the druggie crowd. She became part of the goth/scene/emo/hipster/etc. crowd. Maybe if it wasn't for her, I would not have ever became so attracted to that dark beauty, but the darker and more erratic the style got, the more attracted I became. It followed suit with every other girl as well. You always wanted to be the one striving to be 'different'. I was one of her only friends that didn't do any kind of drugs, and in the end, that's what really separated us. A couple years past, we found new loves. She started dating some guy that was really cool, I respected him.

I would be lying to say that I wasn't...glad that she was happy. I was never satisfied, I'm still not, because it wasn't me that was making her happy. I I figured that because it's high school, they'd probably break up soon, and then I could finally make my chance having matured at least a little bit. So I continued to flirt. That was enough to at least keep my hopes hanging by a thread knowing that should-no, when-you broke up, I wouldn't have to start all over. I would be there for you just like I always had, and I could be with you again.

As time went on, my hopes even as small as they were started to diminish, it soon stretched into a year. Then came the day that ultimately shocked me. Shelby cheated on him. Part of me was hopeful, yet another part of me was disappointed. She cheated on him a couple of times, and they broke up.

The summer passed, we talked a bit through the summer. I remember a couple of times talking to you through the nights, you were the best reason I've ever had for staying up late. You were the best reason I've ever had for wasting an afternoon on the phone. You and I started talking more, and you told me you fell back into love with me. My heart stopped in a frozen flame of ecstasy.

One part of me was ecstatic to hear this. I couldn't believe this, but another part of me, the weak part of me, was scared. I couldn't let myself get back into that only to have her cheat on me. My dad cheated on my mom, and after she gave him another chance, he did it again. That left the image in my mind that once somebody cheats, chances are they'll cheat again. Although, she stopped doing drugs, so I thought maybe she could change. It was ultimately this torrid fear that cause me to once again, hesitate.

After about a month, we were unofficially dating, we were doing everything that we did way back in the day. I swear it was the best feeling of nostalgia I could have ever had experienced. I would have kissed you, but the moment never called for it. Maybe that was just me and I should have regardless.

There are two things I loved the most when I was around you. Making you laugh, and giving you back massages. I once heard someone say that laughter was the greatest gift one could get and being able to make others laugh was one of the best gifts one could have. Being able to make you laugh, to give you unique moments of joy that only I could do in your stressful life was one of the only gifts that I could ever give you.

I loved giving back massages because that was the only other thing that I felt I could masterfully provide. It helped you feel so relaxed. I felt glad that I could actually do something with my hands for other people-but most importantly, you. Turning the muscles in your back from stone to liquid was almost like a mission.

You asked me many times to homecoming, but due to the complete opposite humbling nature I once had in middle school, I wanted to play the options that I did have and never officially said yes. I tried to pit that fear of your unfaithful indiscretions that everyone warned me about. Regardless, we still went to homecoming together and things were going great until you had a panic attack at the end. I still don't know why. She never told me.

I can honestly say that after the slow dance that we had together, it was then that I realized how much I loved you. I knew I always liked you, and I knew that I always found you attractive, in both a sexual and a non sexual way, but it wasn't till this that my feelings bloomed.

In the dark of the gym that we danced in, I held you close to me. I don't even remember any thoughts that I could voice at that time, at this time, or ever will be able to. Your body held me at such comfort, I was feeling like I was melting into bliss. I caressed your tender body like the glowing jewel you were in the moment. My hand rested on the small of your back, a place where your skin was exposed. It was so soft, and you felt so fragile underneath my fingertips, but I didn't think about how fragile you were making me. Your warmth ensnared my slowly beating heart as I pleaded with whatever force was out there to make the song play on repeat. I rested my head onto yours as I held you closer to me, unafraid of the romantic intimacy. The sweet, aromatic scent captivated me. I could feel it tickle my nostrils. You smelled as sweet as the flower you were, blooming along with my euphoria at the pure affection. It left me with a strange contradiction. It was the most I think I have ever felt, but yet it left me numb.

When the very end of the night came, I leaned in for the kiss, my time had come, but I felt the cold, biting eyes of my little sister, and could not take it. She had ruined the moment. She looked on the with dead interest of a bored and detached kid staring at an uninteresting animal at the zoo. The only difference was I know on the inside of her, she was a predator, planning on using that kiss as ammo for the future. The moment was lost and I could not bare to kiss Shelby anymore. The moment I firmly grasped was quickly torn away.

The day after, you acted unusually cold. I tried flirting, and she never responded. Anytime I touched her, she acted disgusted and would withdraw and on a couple of occasions, threatened me. I thought maybe she was in a bad mood, maybe she was PMS'ing and decided to just give her some time and space. Yet, after a week and a half, nothing changed. I confronted her about it, and she said words that killed me.

"I don't like you anymore. I can't like somebody I'm not physically attracted to."

I was devastated. I didn't show it. I let slide and pretend that it didn't bother me. I probably even tricked myself; felt no pain. I just went on the next day shrugging it off because that's the kind of person I am. I am strong. Nothing could bring me to emotional weakness or crippling. I wasn't as flirty (or fun and friendly as she called it) and I didn't put her higher than almost everyone else on my priorities. She became equal to everyone. We talked it out, she accepted it.

Months went by, graduation started to become a major priority in people's lives as soon college would be. We went back to our normal dating lives. She was more successful than I was though. On a downside, she went back to drugs. I feel like I might have been partially responsible. Maybe if I did go out with her, I could've kept her happy enough so she wouldn't have gone back, but there's nothing I can do now.

We graduated, and she moved right down the street from me, I couldn't have been happier. I thought it was going to be a great thing. Even though she had a boyfriend, in the past couple of years, I realized I couldn't let something like that stop me.

Unfortunately, she is just as distant as ever. Now, all she does is do drugs. She's always getting high, always getting drunk, always tripping, always smoking. She's become dependent and reliant on them, and all of her 'friends' just keep on digging her deeper and deeper in the hole. The few times we have talked, it was because she was upset that one of her friends got high or drunk and then something would happen. Maybe I just don't understand what it's like to do drugs, but after being around it for so long in my family and knowing how bad just being around people who do it has fucked my life it, I know that her life is just going to go down until she realizes that she fucked up.

I don't love who she is now. All she does is get high. She uses it as a crutch to get through her lack of life. I do miss her though. I miss everything that she was and the great person she could have been. I just wish she could have seen that person in herself before all of that.

Shelby, if you somehow stumble upon this, you know who I am.
I loved you.

And I always did.

And I always will.



For those of you who read all of this, I applaud you for reading all this whiny shit from an anon who had nothing better to do with their time. I truly appreciate you reading all this. Comment whatever the hell you want at this point. If you want, there's a couple other stories, but only if somebody is interested, even if it's just one person.





Too fucking long; Didn't read
Fell in love, I fucked up too many times. She fucked up too many times. Things are most likely unrepairable.