mama, i'm having nightmares again...

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post-trau·mat·ic stress dis·or·der

noun

a condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock, typically involving disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience, with dulled responses to others and to the outside world.

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As much game as I talked, I didn't know much about sex or dating at the age of 14. It seemed to be that everyone I knew had been exploring the world of dating. In school, every corner I turned, there were couples holding hands or sharing sweet kisses by the lockers. I felt very lonely. I didn't have many friends, and I never experienced a true relationship besides any insignificant ones I had in middle school. The desire was immense. I was tired of being alone, coming home after school with absolutely nothing to do other than watch reruns of iCarly on Nickelodeon. But it was the norm for me, having little to no friends to do anything outside of the school.

One of my only friends in school was more or less an asshole. His name was Aaron, he was a grade above me, very opinionated, but to the point where if you didn't agree with his opinion, you were automatically wrong. We were always arguing about something and it usually ended up with me in tears from a harsh remark he'd say. After one nasty argument on the bus ride home, I decided I needed to expand my friend group. I also decided I didn't want to put up with him on the bus ride to and from school with him anymore, so it was time to seek out a new ride.

I tried putting myself out there by broadening my range. I befriended older students. During my fourth-period lunch, I approached a group of what looked like to be a group of mixed ages and asked to sit with them. They welcomed me with open arms, and all was right with the world. They were all so different, some were into anime, others were music prodigies, I had never seen such diversity in a friend group. Nonetheless, we always found something to talk about.

There was a senior at the table, he was lanky with a unibrow and his mother gave him the name Brendan. We had very few conversations here and there, I usually spoke to everyone else who was seated at my table, but he was so damn cute to me. Every corny joke I told him seemed to make him laugh, and I couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle whenever he smiled.

For the next few weeks our friendship was being built, and one day after a huge argument with Aaron I had come into lunch with teary eyes. When Brendan asked what was wrong I explained the situation, and with a big smirk on his face, he told me he'd give me rides home if I gave him sexual favors in return. I nervously laughed, unsure of what my next move would be before he burst out laughing and told me he was just kidding. Along with the rest of the table, I laughed along. So when the last bell rang, I patiently waited on a bench outside of the school.

He drives a Volkswagen Jetta, it's a nice blue car and it always has the air conditioner blasting. Brendan's car smelled like him, an undetectable scent that always comforted me. The first two times he drove me home was a blur. We didn't know much about each other, so it was fairly awkward. However, the third time I got into his car to go home he asked me if I wanted to come over. I was reluctant, but once he mentioned that he had four dogs and a cat, he won me over. When we got there, we truly got to know each other. We spoke about our childhoods and our personal experiences. It wasn't long until we were in sync with each other.

Almost every day for the rest of my freshman year of high school, Brendan drove me home. Sometimes he'd take me out to eat, other times we'd hang out at his house, eat french toast sticks and watch Futurama. He earned my trust very quickly with his charming smile and his inviting wit. I'd call him late at night and we'd talk for hours, and as a result, I'd show up to school the next morning with bags under my eyes, but it'd be worth it.

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 17, 2020 ⏰

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