This Love (Paige Bueckers)

52

March 17, 2025

MAJOR tw: sh and sa

five years ago

"fuck," I sigh.

"you're doing so good," madi whispers in my ear.

"I can't believe I've been missing out of this all this time."

"me either," she laughs.

i smooth out the clay and keep shaping it.

pottery is so fun. madi has been taking classes for years and this is my first time doing this.

you didn't think we were doing something else, did you?

I finish making my bowl and set it out to dry.

"that was fun," I say as we sit down on Madi's bed.

"yeah," she smiles.

she pushes me down onto my back and climbs on top of me.

we've been dating for four months and things have been great.

she kisses me strongly and I move my lips against hers.

she brings her hand down to the elastic of my shorts.

"stop," I separate our lips. "im not ready."

"you keep saying that," she sighs, getting off of me.

"because im not ready to have sex yet," I scoff. "you need to accept that. I'll tell you when im ready."

"I'm just so bored. It's been so long. im shrinking."

"what?" I laugh.

"come on, just let me fuck you. it'll be over before you know it," she begs.

"no, madi. I've said no so many times."

"fine, then we're done," she says.

"what?" I laugh.

"we're done."

"you're fucking kidding me," I scoff.

"im not," she laughs. "you won't put out. it's annoying. The only reason I dated you was for your tits, and I can't even see them!"

"fuck," I say with a sob.

I run out of her house. I run all the way home. in the pouring rain.

once I get home, I go up to my room and lock my door.

I have no clue why. if anything, I should be asking Caitlin to come in. talk to me. but im not. im locking my door.

I collapse onto my bed. the pillow against my face makes it slightly hard to breathe.

it feels good. the pain.

people have always told me that I have the perfect life. I have a sister who is a five star, we have money, great parents. but sometimes all of this stuff is so suffocating.

I sit up and look around my room. that's when I see it, the pocket knife.

I got the knife for my tenth birthday from my uncle. my parents didn't let me actually have it until I was fifteen.

I slowly walk over to the desk and pick up the knife.

I stare at it. the sharp tip of it. the blade that could surely do damage. the shiny silver where I can see the reflection of tears running down my face. why would my parents ever let me have it?