Growing up, I was the heartbreaker. I knew what it felt like to have boys behind me, many boys.
I was also the heartbroken one once, but only one time. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but I dived right in, blindfolded.
Why would I not?
It's not every day that you meet a boy with stars in his eyes and honey dripping off his words.
He seemed perfect to me. Seemed.
Perfect because he was the one boy who saw me for who I was. Was.
I was scared because all this was new to me. I didn't trust myself not to trust him. He was a charming boy. Boy.
All my life I'd been taught to save myself for a man, but instead, I let go of myself and loved a boy. Loved.
And that led to my demise.