heartbreak(er)

prologue

He broke my heart first.

If you want to get technical, then yeah we were never together with the label of boyfriend and girlfriend but I felt in my heart that we were—together I mean.

He would seek me in the halls and within phone calls, winks across the room, and long stares and glares my friends always would point out to me. And of course, no matter who was watching, at whatever time, he would kiss me. He would kiss me softly and sometimes quickly, after first period, when the day had just begun but telling me he couldn't stay or had somewhere to be. He would tell me to cut class just so we could make out in the backseat of his BMW. In there, he could whisper how pretty I looked from across the hall or what a nerd I was to be doing my chemistry homework while he kissed my neck. Or sometimes I would drop it all and let him kiss me; let him see just a bit more skin than last time, and sigh a little louder for him to hear.

But the truth of it all was that he never did call me his and as much as I wanted; I could never do so either.

I waited for him to ask me but I would tell myself that boys like him did not do that.

I waited some more and told myself that he was just waiting for the right time.

And I waited just a little bit more and told myself that this was okay; what difference would any label make?

So I ignored it; when I closed the restroom stall and I could hear girls asking one another if I was his girlfriend.
I ignored boys when they asked me if I was off the market—they just wanted to know because they wanted to take me out sometime.

I would try so hard to disregard and ignore what my friends would say; each one urging me more than the last to know what they could call us.

Why did I put up with this, I could do so much better, the would all say chiming in unison.

And that was especially hard because I knew I could. I knew I could.

Why was it so hard for him to tell me what he felt?

Why?

If only I had the answers I have now, then I wouldn't have broken his heart.