You were a player, or as much of a player as any 8th grader could be. You dated what seemed like every girl in our chorus class, but you seemed shocked when you found out I had a little crush on you. We were young and stupid. I still remember our principal screaming at us for making out in the hallways between classes. Kissing with tongue was wild in my eyes, and I wouldn’t let the fear of indecency in the hallways stop me.
You were easily distracted, though. I was bitter and
jealous. When you went away for summer camp I told you I didn’t want to be with
you anymore. It wasn’t until high school that I finally gave you my reasoning.
I never thought that me dumping you would hurt you, but I guess you did care
about me after all. I needed so much more attention than you could give.
Now you like boys.
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