The Woman who Broke Me
There was a point I felt so close to her. SO CLOSE. That night was ruiend. I took a song from her favorite artist and played it for her at the ideal time and she thought it was "just ok." I did the things she asked, to the point that I remember she had blamed all her exes for being too nice too her and doing what she asked too much and to readily and not being able to disagree. So I started disagreeing. Purposefully. She decided this was cool. We were the best of friends for a week and then it happened. So quickly, it was discovered we were fragile. She called me the lesser of the two, for claiming I was doing well with it all when she was over it, however I did not break down crying as did she. It is true, they are the weaker vessel, and she proved it that day. No matter how emotional I am, I am not a woman. Then we could sympathize. We both wished it had stolen our lives, so that we wouldn't have to deal with the carnageous aftermath. There were times I realized that thinking was stupid, but now it seems great. Then there was the watched times. At first they were great, then... they were no good. The loss of music caused it, and then our disagreement on music. The week of counterstrike we even had an in-joke... imagine that, an injoke. It was on "teen suicide." Never before I met her had I truly thought of taking my own life. She broke my will to live.
She was small, oh so small. She was tempting... oh so innocent. The trouble was, she lived leagues away. I didn't mind it. We could work it out. My friends tore down my thoughts of it and suddenly, we couldn't work it out. It was then, THEN! that my illness began. She is the cause of all my pain, my strife, that no one understands me. THE BLAME IS ON HER!! Let her die knowing that she ruined my life. But the relationship got better and worse for a time, different shocks on both sides. Mostly her shocks were in the real world, and mine were mentally established. But, shocks none the less. We couldn't get one another. She was evil, gothic, dark.. I was christian, [then] innocent, and happy. And then I wasn't. She came to my town, for a few weeks and avoided me. She was an angel of loveliness the few times I saw her... and of loneliness. Then there was the night. The night I thought Ihad in the bag. It was at that point that I learned just because a girl says she wants to make out with you doesn't mean it's automatic, and you shouldn't just ask for it. Girls need to be romanced, to be brought into the mood. I will never forget that lesson. Never before meeting her did I have the sickness. She broke my mind.
I didn't know her very well. She had a crush on my friend, and she knew a lot of people. She wouldn't talk to me. None of those freshman girls would talk to me, the big scary sophomore. I was big then, still am. Big and scary in a leather jacket and long hair. I was once introduced as "Vito the Bodyguard" by one of my friends to her. She didn't buy it. There was obvious reasons, but the reason she didn't play along was because she thought I was disgusting. Morally depraved, the scum of the earth. She never knew my name and I could read from her eyes that when she looked at me all she was filth. Vile corruption without meek pity, I must of been a vision of ugliness. The way she glanced at me, the days she didn't look my way for fear of catching my eye, made me think less of myself. She eventually gave up on my friend, or he on her, I'm not too sure; and I realized what a flirty tease she was. I had never wanted her, but I had wanted her to want me, to prove my manliness. I had wanted any girl to notice me, but especially her. She was very feminine, very pretty, but no one I would date due to the fact that she was-as said-a flirty tease, and I will never be good at playing those games. Before I met her I thought I could have a good time of things early on in high school. She broke my self-image.
She was tall, always tall. My early years, she two years my senior, she was taller than I was, but there reached a point where I was taller than her. She was always flirty, with everyone. She would take it past flirting, make people think she had a genuine interest in them and them alone. When she wasn't flirting she spoke of sexual things, such as doing an exercise because she knew it worked out the butt and talking about it working out her butt and how nice a butt she was going to have really soon. I thought she had something for me, and maybe she did, but I never found out. Many times I thought I had her, or rather, she had me, but I always found out she already had a boyfriend, one time my [at that time] best friend. I don't know why every time I was refooled, why every time I became jealous of her flirting with other men, why I chided her as a parent when she did what I disaproved of. Why she among prettier girls always stood out, why EVERY time I let myself get attached to something fake, and borke hard. Before I had fallen for many girls once, one girl twice, never one girl many times. She broke my heart.
This ONE girl, broke my heart, my self-image, my mind, and my will to live. Who is she, you may ask? Isn't this an incredible feat for one woman to complete? Of course it would be. This is no ordinary woman. You can call it womankind in general, for in this case these women all teamed up to do what women will eventually try to do to a man, break his will to live, heart, mind, and self-image. I have rebuilt with time and approval my self-image. My heart has healed with the melody of time. My mind is able to cope better with understanding. My will to live has been built piece by piece by tearing myself away from her. I am now a complete man. But who is she really, you might ask? What is her name? I have to admit, it was more than one girl, it was 4. But they were all named Anna.
She was small, oh so small. She was tempting... oh so innocent. The trouble was, she lived leagues away. I didn't mind it. We could work it out. My friends tore down my thoughts of it and suddenly, we couldn't work it out. It was then, THEN! that my illness began. She is the cause of all my pain, my strife, that no one understands me. THE BLAME IS ON HER!! Let her die knowing that she ruined my life. But the relationship got better and worse for a time, different shocks on both sides. Mostly her shocks were in the real world, and mine were mentally established. But, shocks none the less. We couldn't get one another. She was evil, gothic, dark.. I was christian, [then] innocent, and happy. And then I wasn't. She came to my town, for a few weeks and avoided me. She was an angel of loveliness the few times I saw her... and of loneliness. Then there was the night. The night I thought Ihad in the bag. It was at that point that I learned just because a girl says she wants to make out with you doesn't mean it's automatic, and you shouldn't just ask for it. Girls need to be romanced, to be brought into the mood. I will never forget that lesson. Never before meeting her did I have the sickness. She broke my mind.
I didn't know her very well. She had a crush on my friend, and she knew a lot of people. She wouldn't talk to me. None of those freshman girls would talk to me, the big scary sophomore. I was big then, still am. Big and scary in a leather jacket and long hair. I was once introduced as "Vito the Bodyguard" by one of my friends to her. She didn't buy it. There was obvious reasons, but the reason she didn't play along was because she thought I was disgusting. Morally depraved, the scum of the earth. She never knew my name and I could read from her eyes that when she looked at me all she was filth. Vile corruption without meek pity, I must of been a vision of ugliness. The way she glanced at me, the days she didn't look my way for fear of catching my eye, made me think less of myself. She eventually gave up on my friend, or he on her, I'm not too sure; and I realized what a flirty tease she was. I had never wanted her, but I had wanted her to want me, to prove my manliness. I had wanted any girl to notice me, but especially her. She was very feminine, very pretty, but no one I would date due to the fact that she was-as said-a flirty tease, and I will never be good at playing those games. Before I met her I thought I could have a good time of things early on in high school. She broke my self-image.
She was tall, always tall. My early years, she two years my senior, she was taller than I was, but there reached a point where I was taller than her. She was always flirty, with everyone. She would take it past flirting, make people think she had a genuine interest in them and them alone. When she wasn't flirting she spoke of sexual things, such as doing an exercise because she knew it worked out the butt and talking about it working out her butt and how nice a butt she was going to have really soon. I thought she had something for me, and maybe she did, but I never found out. Many times I thought I had her, or rather, she had me, but I always found out she already had a boyfriend, one time my [at that time] best friend. I don't know why every time I was refooled, why every time I became jealous of her flirting with other men, why I chided her as a parent when she did what I disaproved of. Why she among prettier girls always stood out, why EVERY time I let myself get attached to something fake, and borke hard. Before I had fallen for many girls once, one girl twice, never one girl many times. She broke my heart.
This ONE girl, broke my heart, my self-image, my mind, and my will to live. Who is she, you may ask? Isn't this an incredible feat for one woman to complete? Of course it would be. This is no ordinary woman. You can call it womankind in general, for in this case these women all teamed up to do what women will eventually try to do to a man, break his will to live, heart, mind, and self-image. I have rebuilt with time and approval my self-image. My heart has healed with the melody of time. My mind is able to cope better with understanding. My will to live has been built piece by piece by tearing myself away from her. I am now a complete man. But who is she really, you might ask? What is her name? I have to admit, it was more than one girl, it was 4. But they were all named Anna.