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For your information: I could not sleep that night. I didn't even message Ethan or any of my friends for a matter of fact.

After having dinner I laid on my bed with Concha by my side until she got tired of my love and hopped off my bed to go hang out by the cat tree. It wasn't that I wasn't happy about what had happened - I mean I was the one that kissed him, not the other way around, even though he made it quite clear that he was open to the idea. Maybe I'm just thinking of exes, that makes it sound like I have many but that's not true, I'm just eighteen.

I'm just eighteen. Sometimes it hits me hard how young I still am, I can't fix m y mom's passport problems until I'm twenty-one, that's two and a half years away. I hate being so young. Dad told me not to worry about it, that I should live at my own pace; he also told me to not smoke, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

Before Ethan, who is not my boyfriend, I dated Taylor... guy Taylor not girl Taylor, girl Taylor wouldn't come until a couple of months after me and guy Taylor broke up. We started dating sophomore year of High school which means he was about two and a half years in my life, he was nice. His parents were white American, which means nothing to me, but when they had me over for diner the first time his mom made me some sort of enchilada casserole to make it feel like they were including me in - I didn't like it, but it was a nice gesture. That lady was the sweetest ever, she drove us around and once took me shopping after mom was deported to make me feel better, even though me and Taylor had already broken up, I still sent her a Happy Thanksgiving and a Happy Holidays text last year, it'd feel wrong not to.

Taylor broke up with me because I was 'complicated', which is fair, mom got deported and I fell hard into depression and was anxious all of the time that dad would be deported, too. I relied heavily on Carlos, because he understood me, and Taylor didn't like that. I can't quite remember what I liked about him actually, aside form the fact his family was really nice. He was funny, that might have been it, and — yeah he was funny and we got along and I thought that was good enough, which isn't entirely wrong. He was the first boy I slept with, too, so that was important I'd say, even though I can't recall exactly when it happened, junior year I'm sure. The relationship was doomed to fail, I came to realize before he even mentioned that we needed to talk.

I was more mad over the fact that he left be because I was "complicated" than that he was breaking up with me at all. I wasn't complicated, I was sad, my family was broken, it was something hard for me to swallow. So I had looked at him, disbelieving, and taken off the jacket I was wearing (one of the his he had given to me) and thrown it at him before saying:

"Then go fuck yourself." In a way, I probably made it seem I was bitter, I suppose I was, but he had said I was overreacting to my mom leaving and all, and I wasn't gonna stand that.

After guy Taylor I went on little dates, most of them arranged by Carlos, because he was the one that got invited to parties and events and since I was trying to distract myself I went along with him. That was the summer before college, most of the people I met were not that interesting, but those months were a blur, so it really didn't matter. I've forgotten most of them. I met girl Taylor at a party like that. The reason I remember her was because the first thing I told her after she introduced herself at the party was that she was named just like my ex. She had laughed, said she hoped to leave a better impression. She wore a floral perfume I liked a lot and had bright green eyes.

Historically Inaccurate ✓Where stories live. Discover now