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Me, Myself, and I
Every teenage girl in today's society is in need of a boyfriend. At least that was what I believed.
I am a romantic at heart. I read the mushy, sappy, girly books, in which the heroine must choose between two guys, she finds her true love and everything in her life falls into place. I love romantic comedies and I love, almost to the point of obsession, everything Disney princess and fairy tale related.
Obviously I was going to come away with some high expectations about love.
High school is portrayed as the golden years, and sixteen the age where every girl finds her prince. I was ready for the miracles to happen.
My fairy tale started freshman year and ended with a different happy ending.
The ordeal began with my best friend, Raquel. We became best friends in elementary school, and even though she moved in sixth grade, and transferred schools, we were still just as close as before.
Raquel made a whole new set of friends at her new school, and her parents made friends with their parents. This ensured that at parties, I met Raquel's new friends.
At one such party, in the autumn of our eighth grade year, my family and the family of Raquel's friend Ivan, were invited. Ivan was a year above us and and happened to bring his friend Callum, who was the same age as Raquel and I. And single.
The possibilities of this new development ran through my head. I was about to meet a cool, single guy my own age. Perfect right? Raquel warned me beforehand that Callum was annoying and not even cute. She advised me not to get any ideas into my head. However, I decided to make my own decisions about him.
I first thought that he was definitely cute. He was tall, maybe not amazingly tall, but taller than me. He had dirty blonde hair that fell in little curls across his forehead and beautiful blue-gray eyes, the color of the early morning sky. He was just my type as well - nerdy and fun to be around. Not to mention he was someone new, since we did not go to the same school. He was much more interesting than the idiots at my school.I fell hard almost immediately, like a crush at first sight.
Metaphorically and literally, because at our first meeting he hit me in the head with a soccer ball. Hard.
Over the next few months, admiration for him grew to a full on obsession. I talked about him all the time and waited impatiently until I saw him again. We only saw each other every now and then so opportunities to become more than friends were limited.
On the Fourth of July that summer, my friend Sophie and I went to see the fireworks show that our city always put on. Sophie, a phenomenally more outgoing person than I, took the matter into her own hands. Apparently fed up with listening to me talk about a boy, she forced me to talk to him. That is to say, she kidnapped my phone and texted Callum for me.
At first I was mortified but Callum actually responded and we struck up a conversation. From then on my phone never left my hands. Callum and I always texted, teasing each other, flirting, and generally getting to know one another.
Three months later, at a concert for Raquel’s band, Callum and I met up and he confessed his feelings for me. He asked me to be his girlfriend as well. I so excited and really wanted to say yes. There was only one problem. My mother thought I was too young to date, so I was not allowed. I, being a good, rules following kind of girl, told Callum and we awkwardly stayed friends. But the atmosphere between us shifted. I felt the change in our interactions. Three days later I gave up. Callum and I officially started dating.
Callum and I dated for the next five months, though we just cycled through the motions. We texted all the time, called at night, and wished each other a good morning and a good night every day. We snuck out to see each other and we held hands on our dates. But everything felt awkward and slightly forced. Our relationship was the first either of us had ever been in. It was awkward and embarrassing, as well as “long distance.” So we weren’t quite sure what to do and how to act. I never knew that a relationship would be so hard and unhappy.
After five months of torture, Callum broke up with me. We both knew our relationship was not going anywhere. I was still upset however. I cried and shut myself in my room, talking to friends on the phone and eating ice cream. My reaction was so cliche, because that’s what others expect of you after a breakup.
Then then a revelation hit me. The breakup did not affect me anywhere near that much. What Callum and I had was a horrible version of a relationship. Worrying about what to do and how to act tore me up inside. I just missed saying I had a boyfriend. Why did I force myself into a relationship? Why did I think that I needed a boyfriend to be happy? I had great friends and my family, and plenty of hobbies to occupy myself.
I thought I needed a boyfriend because society and the media brainwashed me into thinking so. Now I shrugged that way of thinking off. My own happy ending starts here. Now I focus on me, myself, and I.
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