let’s start from the beginning, yes?
practically.
i was young when boyfriend #2 broke up with me. i think i was seventeen — the height of love and passion while naivete still exists. what closure was a girl to have with, “even though it’s summer now, i just don’t want to try,” and, “i just don’t see the benefit in having a girlfriend.” benefit? as if people were meant for material purposes!
but what perfect timing for a break up. i had summer courses to preoccupy my mind and perfect weather to play in. besides, summer flings serve as great rebounds!
i wasn’t thinking. i wasn’t actively searching for a rebound, or a fling, but emotionally must have needed it. next thing i knew, everyone’s enemy — and i mean EVERYONE’S — convinced me we needed to talk about my emotional state. the high school douchebag was in my room, on my bed.
this fling was flung a couple times, somehow convincing him we were secret fuck buddies. i suppose if he wasn’t such a douchebag and we didn’t publicly become mortal enemies — and if his dick wasn’t so small — we could have been consistent fuck buddies.
yeah, The Douchebag’s dick was small. makes sense, behaviorally. i wanted nothing more to do with him, but he will still contact me to this day. somehow, he went to college and found a girl who would take him, but he can’t stop thinking of me while he fucks her. also, she won’t give him any head.
so that’s The Douchebag. hopefully, the calls have stopped, but we’ll see in a couple more months…