If my feelings were right about that obnoxious creature, was that she was up to no good.
Some days I felt like breaking up with her was one of the best decisions I have ever made, but some days I do miss her clinging on to me as if I was the very oxygen she couldn't breathe without.
After all I was the one who confronted her telling her I loved her back in Stacey's birthday party last summer. Yes, I was pretty drunk that day. Stacey's parties are one of the few parties you wouldn't wanna miss when you're in Int'll East. She threw the most extravagant parties, anyone was welcome to join in.
That was my first mistake.
Gail was beautiful, physically. I was attracted to her because of her looks and that made me do surprisingly foolish things. But with each day passing, our love and desire for each other started to dim and I was beginning to lose my interest.
Bottom line was, Gail was just another summer fling. Nothing more.
Some days we felt like the happiest couple on the planet, as if we ruled the world with our romantic candle light dinners, our heart to heart conversations on the swings of her backyard, our walks in Central Park, then our endless make up sessions. But there was just something missing about her that simply I couldn't put my finger on.
That was my second mistake.
The relationship lasted for about a month, actually. 4 weeks, as in 28 days to be precise (yes, I counted the days, don't judge me). The reason why I ended it was because I couldn't accept the way she behaved towards the people around her. Well, I know that accepting and appreciating your partner was how love supposed to work, but I guess I can't seem to handle Gail that way.
She is a ruthless human being. Well, a beautiful one, to say the least.
I think her definition of 'friends' in her dictionary was partly 'people that should follow my rules and execute my orders because I am the queen of everything', and the horrible part was, I was her 'king' of everything. Yikes.
This was so wrong on so many levels. I didn't know who she was until a couple of weeks of dating her.
She was like this seemingly attractive lady wearing a masquerade mask during a masquerade ball when you first met her, who then naturally takes it off once the ball's over. Something like that. (I'm not one who's good at metaphors either, I get it. I suck.)
Anyway, since love was about acceptance and I couldn't accept the way she behaved towards people, I decided to call this relationship off.
Don't get me wrong, I scolded her so many times for behaving this way because I obviously didn't like it, but she usually tried shrugging it off with a pout on her face, which was irresistibly cute. Was. Or she would just plant a kiss on my cheeks, sometimes lips, and did those ever made me stop talking? No.
Well, okay I did might as well literally stopped talking when she kissed me.
BUT I lured her back to the topic over and over again until I was tired of talking. It was then I realize that, this was not love to begin with when I started dating her. It was indeed, I hate to admit... Lust.
We were both so drawn to each other, and as much as talking and having deep conversations we had for the last couple of weeks, it wasn't as much compared to our daily make-up sessions and the dirty conversations we had between each other.
If only I had my parents to tell them about what was going on my teenage summer love life, they would understand and tell me stuff like, "She is a bad influence on you, honey. You wouldn't wanna grow old with a person like that. Break up with her immediately." Or "Nu-uh, no son of mine is dating a reckless b*tch like that in this family." To be honest, that was the few things I thought they would say to me in a time like this, if they were still here. Which is another story, of course.
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Shadows above the sand. I, Leslie Carter, have longed for the idea of being enamored towards someone. The sea was quiet, who knows what it conceals, the lies tucked underneath. Everything turned subtle, nothing stays clear anymore. I've always thoug...