Mr. Brightside.
My whole body was trembling along with the vibrations of my phone as it sat on my bed. I could barely catch my breath as I slid my fingers across its smooth, glass surface.
"Hello?" I whispered into the phone.
"Hey," his voice calmly replied. It was like butter. I felt my whole insides melting along with the sound of his voice. There was something safe in his voice. Familiar. I had been dreaming about him. His touch, his kisses. In my dream I told him I loved him, only to wake up to my current "lover". He smiled at me and said,
"You talk a lot in your sleep." I was so fearful. I hoped I hadn't uttered the other boy's name in my dreams. I knew I had said it. Over and over. "Come with me _____." "I love you ____."
He was my first love. I never truly moved on from him. I had forced myself to...
I rarely saw him... Walking through the hallways of our school. He avoided me, and I him. I tried to speak to him once... I had hoped we could become friends after that... But the silence remained. Then the day came that I saw him with her. She was petite, dressed dark, with short, asymmetrical hair. My heart sank. I picture see him undressing her. Slipping her tight jeans off of her slim, prominent hips. Touching her naked back... Holding her close. I pushed these images out of my mind, yet they kept pressing in on my thoughts. I made myself sick to my stomach. I couldn't look at food, nor myself in the mirror. Why couldn't I be as skinny as her? I attempted to stop eating. Become anorexic again. But what good would that do me? I'm not even a person to him anymore. I'm a shadow of his past. A forgotten memory. I stared at my reflection. My hair had gotten so long... I wondered if he liked my new hair. I loved it... But... Maybe he didn't. I looked at my body... It was curvy. My bust had gotten bigger. I was now almost too big for a D cup. I loved the way I looked in boy shorts and a bra. My ribs were small, my hips curved smoothly, making an hour glass shape. I know that her body was most likely skinny and boyish, but still I envied her. I felt like a real woman... But my insecurities greatly affected my self image. I could almost feel his fingertips tracing my hips again. I shivered. I longed to lay in his bed again and drift asleep to his scent. He had told me he still had my bathing suit. I smiled and remembered the time that he held me in his arms, carrying me through the water as our friends laughed and splashed each other. That was the only time I ever wore that bathing suit. I never admitted it to anyone, but even after I refused his plead to take him back, I continued to cry because I missed him. I would break down and just cry. Dusten would ask me what was wrong and I would never tell him. I couldn't tell him...
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