An Open Letter to the Boy That I Let Take Advantage of Me and All of the Other Fuckboys In the World
Dear boy that stole my first kiss, I wanted you to kiss me. At least I thought I did. You were smart, funny, charming, but most importantly I considered you a friend. Someone I could trust, someone who understood the importance of what was about to happen between us. As we sat there talking in the dark and you whispered all of the right things I knew we were going to kiss. Then you started talking about sex. I made it clear that's not what I wanted because to have sex means more to me than just hooking up with no feelings and because I didn't feel ready. You understood. Or at least I thought you did. As you laid down beside me and started rubbing my back the laughter and voices of our friends no more than 100 yards away ceased to exist. In that moment in that small meadow, it was you and me and it was safe and comfortable.
And then I felt your fingers on the bare skin of my back. It was safe but a little less comfortable, but not enough to make me panic. You said it yourself, you were confident enough in me for both of us. So I was okay with it. I finally laid down beside you and you pulled me close. You wanted me close. You pressed your face against my neck and I ran my fingers through your hair and kissed your cheek. The single bravest thing I had ever done. You kissed me once. Softly. Briefly.
And then you were on top of me and your tongue in my mouth tasted like alcohol. We both had been drinking, I'm not going to lie. I had a couple shots and a sip of a beer. You had a beer. Maybe two. All consumed right at the beginning of the party. By all accounts we were the two most sober people there that night. As we laid there tangled limbs and mouths, I let myself relax. I trusted you completely. We had established the line. We both pulled back and I whispered “We can't.” “I know.” You whisper back, but then your lips are back on mine. I can't fight you, and at the moment I didn't want to. At least I thought you were saying “I know,” but now that I think about it, you were probably saying no to me for telling you it wasn’t going to happen.
And then you push my legs apart and grind against me. It is the single most surreal moment of my life. In 18 years nobody ever wanted me this way. You pause and whisper “I've wanted this with you for a long time.” “Stop lying.” “I'm not.” This time I close the distance between us knowing that when I say stop you will, because you care about me...right? As we're kissing and you're molding me against you I giggle and you smirk down at me so full of confidence that you've convinced me to agree to have sex I see the bewildered look on your face when I ask “Why can't you be a nice normal boy who tells me I'm pretty and takes me on dates?” “You are pretty and I'll take you on a date.” After everything that's happened up to this point I believe in you more than I've ever believed in anything when you say those words to me and for a brief moment I consider the merits of losing my virginity to you in the woods with our friends right around the corner.
And then you try to pull me on top of you. That's where my confidence snaps. That is the point I am no longer comfortable. I'm comfortable the situation but not with myself to be in this situation. Because I am still the fat girl who's self-conscious, no matter what you’ve been telling her for the past hour, after a certain point and being on top of you would be it. I would finally be uncomfortable. So I curl up against your side. I say no and rest my head on your chest and you nod and lay your cheek on my head. I feel safe and begin to wonder if maybe everything meant as much to you as it did to me and entertain the idea of us getting into a relationship. I tell you that you were incredibly persuasive and if I'd have given you two more minutes we'd probably be having sex, but I said no because I didn't want to regret it. You told me you didn't want me to regret anything from this night. I think that I kind of sound like a slut, but then remember everything you told me about how I was special and beautiful and that you wanted me. I wholeheartedly believe in the genuineness of those words as meaningful and not just some line to get into my pants. So I kiss you one last time before our friends finally coming looking for us. I'm unsure about what the future holds but I believe in you and the things you promised, because I am naivë and have always had a crush on you. Obviously what just happend means you like me too...right? I was eager to tell everyone about our kiss, because how lucky was I to have been kissed by a guy like you. It all felt like a dream come true.
And then you lied. When I told our best friend what had happened he told me he was so glad that you and I hadn't done more because sometimes you used girls for sex. He didn't think you'd do that to me though. But when he asked you about it and told you what you had tried to do you claimed you didn't remember and that it was, and I quote, “bullshit” because you'd never try to do that with me. I was just a friend and we had only talked. Nobody believes you, because you pull shit like this all the time.
And then I cried. How could I have been so stupid and naivë? How could I have trusted you? For a week I couldn't look at myself in the mirror because I was so disgusted. What ifs filled my mind. “What if I was skinnier? What if I was someone else? What if we had sex? What if he was someone else?” would any of those things change your reaction? Would you suddenly “remember” and brag to everyone if I'd given you my virginity?
And then I was pissed, because you used me. None of the what ifs would have made a difference to you. You only did what you did because I was the only single girl at the party. You didn't mean a thing that you said, and I had been too enthralled and ecstatic to be having a normal teenage experience for the first time in my life that I didn't even think that my friend, whom I trusted would feed me bullshit lines to try and sleep with me! I was so outraged in fact that I told one of our friends to tell you that “After all of this I still regret last night more than he does.”
And finally I realized that you're an asshole. However, you taught me to be a little more guarded with my heart and with myself and to give them both to someone who actually cares about me and means every word he says. You taught me that it's okay to be caught up in moments, but to also stay present enough to prevent yourself from compromising who you are for some boy who just wants sex, and he only wants sex with you because you're the only single girl around. You made me realize if the next guy I kiss isn't ready to go tell the entire world that we kissed and it was magical and incredible, that he's also an asshole and I need to stop kissing boys who aren't excited to be kissing me. Finally you made me realize that I'm a queen. Even though the words you were saying weren't sincere, that the right guy for me is going to be the guy who says things like I'm pretty and actually takes me on dates and treats me the way you did. Except he doesn't do it to get in my pants and while he's on top of me, but because he genuinely loves me and sees how incredible I am. So thank you. Thank you for using me, manipulating me, and lying to me. Thank you for lying to our friends, and lying to yourself about what happened that night. Thank you for showing me the real you. Thank you for showing me that our friends care more about me than you, because you always screw around and lie. Most importantly thank you, because of you and your games I have grown stronger and more confident in the one person that will love me until the day I die. Myself.
Sincerely, The girl friend you tried to have sex with and then denied even kissing in order to save face.
