the girl who took my first boyfriend from me. I can't remember her name but his name was Connor. We were seven, he was Irish and I was fat and boyish. No wonder. I didn't fight her for him, though, she was really pretty and blonde and probably still is.
the teacher who stood by and watched as kids mocked me for eating blood oranges at break time. They thought they were so weird and I didn't understand. I resented my parents for years for making me so exotic.
"Secret Sam", my first true love, he kicked a football in my face and called me ugly in front of all his friends and mine and laughed and I bet if I saw him now I'd just cry or something.
the girls who befriended me as a joke in year six.
the girls who befriended me as a joke in year seven.
ditto, years eight, nine, ten, eleven.
ditto, college.
the boy who made me fall in love with him and then slept with our mutual friend in our bed when I was at work, earning money to pay our rent while he was at home claiming benefits and chatting up girls on the internet and then fucking them. They were all younger than me and he was a few years older than me and I was only eighteen.
the woman who stopped being my friend for no reason after spending months telling me the same three to six stories about her ex boyfriend over and over and over. I was such a good listener.
the boy in my English class who turned everyone against me.
the boy who never showed up.
the man who didn't fuck me when I needed him to.
the man who did fuck me when I didn't want him to.
you, probably.
I think I know 2 of these people, and I wish I knew more. I hate that I let you slip away as my friend, and everything you've gone through. That I can't word this properly to say exactly what I want it to say, I could probably sum it up with a hug but I think we've only hugged once or twice ever in the whole history of the world.
ReplyDeleteIly.