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Description
I.
The summer I turned twelve, I met a boy with brown hair and blue eyes,
he was dating my best friend. His cigarettes hung from his lips the same
way his words did.

Summer passed, leaves fell. I discovered pot and sex
the same way I discovered love- when I was with him. We were young,
and after all... regrets are only what you make them.

I still remember the first time I kissed a boy, of course it was with him,
his lips soft and big against mine, mine unsure and trembling.

"I think I want to marry you when I'm older." he said this,
not Iloveyou, but that, his breathing heavy as electricity shot between us.

Our clothes were always off.

A month later he said he couldn't handle it right now,
that we needed to stop.

I hung around for awhile trying to talk about it,
eventually you just lose hope in things.

II.
The summer I turned thirteen alcohol came into my life. Everything was about parties.
When and where. It wasn't soon before people stopped asking why I wasn't
in school - everyone knew what was going on.

The few days I did drag myself to school I was stoned or drunk or both,
and every day I went he was always holding some different girl's hand.
The year went by, I passed with 5 F's, over 100 days missed. We thought it was funny.

It's easier to take life as a joke,
you end up enjoying it until the truth comes crashing down on you.

III.
The summer I turned fourteen I lost my virginity when I was blackout drunk.
He was nineteen and it was the night I met him.
For six hours. It hurt for days.

I bragged because that's what girls do when guys who should be in college fuck them.

The boy I fell in love with was always stoned,
whenever I was near him he was an asshole to me.
I put up with it, always wondering when he'd get over it.

I had sex with six more guys in the following months.
I count it by sex because I was never able to keep track of everything else.
Not once was it anything like it was with him,
and looking back on it now I think I did it all because I was trying
to find something... anything that felt like it did with him.

IV.
He went to lockup because he failed a piss test.
I told him what was going to happen before it did.

I never told anyone until now,
but I cried for so long and I didn't even know why.

V.
I sent someone into the hospital because they beat on my friend.
Charges were filed, probation was unavoidable. I stopped smoking pot,
stopped drinking myself into a haze of 'I don't give a fuck'. Realized that
life is fine sober, that it always was,
I was just looking for fun in all the wrong places.

VI.
He came home on leave this winter,
I went to visit him. He cleaned up.
I spent the night, asked him to hold me without a reason,
and he kissed me knowing I had a boyfriend.

He said he fell in love with me that year we first met,
that it never really went away with time,
only tempered itself down.

For the first time in so long,
I laid in a bed with a boy who wasn't just trying to get in my pants..
who was content to just hold me,
and be happy for what he had.

For the first time in my life,
I told a boy I loved him and meant it.

Description
I.
The summer I turned twelve, I met a boy with brown hair and blue eyes,
he was dating my best friend. His cigarettes hung from his lips the same
way his words did.

Summer passed, leaves fell. I discovered pot and sex
the same way I discovered love- when I was with him. We were young,
and after all... regrets are only what you make them.

I still remember the first time I kissed a boy, of course it was with him,
his lips soft and big against mine, mine unsure and trembling.

"I think I want to marry you when I'm older." he said this,
not Iloveyou, but that, his breathing heavy as electricity shot between us.

Our clothes were always off.

A month later he said he couldn't handle it right now,
that we needed to stop.

I hung around for awhile trying to talk about it,
eventually you just lose hope in things.

II.
The summer I turned thirteen alcohol came into my life. Everything was about parties.
When and where. It wasn't soon before people stopped asking why I wasn't
in school - everyone knew what was going on.

The few days I did drag myself to school I was stoned or drunk or both,
and every day I went he was always holding some different girl's hand.
The year went by, I passed with 5 F's, over 100 days missed. We thought it was funny.

It's easier to take life as a joke,
you end up enjoying it until the truth comes crashing down on you.

III.
The summer I turned fourteen I lost my virginity when I was blackout drunk.
He was nineteen and it was the night I met him.
For six hours. It hurt for days.

I bragged because that's what girls do when guys who should be in college fuck them.

The boy I fell in love with was always stoned,
whenever I was near him he was an asshole to me.
I put up with it, always wondering when he'd get over it.

I had sex with six more guys in the following months.
I count it by sex because I was never able to keep track of everything else.
Not once was it anything like it was with him,
and looking back on it now I think I did it all because I was trying
to find something... anything that felt like it did with him.

IV.
He went to lockup because he failed a piss test.
I told him what was going to happen before it did.

I never told anyone until now,
but I cried for so long and I didn't even know why.

V.
I sent someone into the hospital because they beat on my friend.
Charges were filed, probation was unavoidable. I stopped smoking pot,
stopped drinking myself into a haze of 'I don't give a fuck'. Realized that
life is fine sober, that it always was,
I was just looking for fun in all the wrong places.

VI.
He came home on leave this winter,
I went to visit him. He cleaned up.
I spent the night, asked him to hold me without a reason,
and he kissed me knowing I had a boyfriend.

He said he fell in love with me that year we first met,
that it never really went away with time,
only tempered itself down.

For the first time in so long,
I laid in a bed with a boy who wasn't just trying to get in my pants..
who was content to just hold me,
and be happy for what he had.

For the first time in my life,
I told a boy I loved him and meant it.