Not A Peep

In August, 2017, I started my first year of high school. I was a Sophomore, but the previous year I had gone to school online, so I still felt like a freshman. That summer, I had no self worth within myself. I texted all sorts of boys, trying to get the attention that my ex, Deyone, payed me. After straining to find love and care - completely and utterly failing -, I let that fantasy go.

I trod into school without a sound, trying not to stand out, hiding in the shadows, hoping teachers didn’t call on me. I would sit behind the school in the morning, beside the trash cans, fidgeting with my hands and shaking my legs, hoping no one would lurk or talk to me. Looking back, I was so clueless. About love, friends, drama, the whole shabang.

Stick Dancer

September, 2017. I successfully came out of my shell, with the help of my classmates whacking it repetitively until I exploded. I was no longer the quiet girl in the front of the classroom, the girl who had her headphones in, or the girl who seemed disgruntled 24/7. I was alive - felt like I had purpose, or a meaningful life. I was engaged in school, had made a good amount of friends, and danced my heart out.

My school holds this thing called a mini showcase that takes place at the beginning of the semester. All of the school’s renowned - or wannabe - poets, singers, drummers, dancers, and artists, join together to showcase their talents. I was in beginning dance, so I performed with my class. I was so nervous; we were to jump and hop to ‘La Vida Es Un Carnanval’, with a Latin flavour incorporated into our choreography. There was partnering and loose movement, which was quite difficult for me, as I am more acquainted with the art of ballet, contemporary, and theatrical jazz.

After performing, I was so embarrassed and my anxiety was through the roof - but I was happy!!! I overcame a fear, and when I looked at the recording of it, I didn’t look atrocious. I still wanted to be unnoticed; just another feather on the peacock, but that didn’t last very long.

Skater Boy

“Hey, that guy is staring at you!”

I whipped my head around and searched through the stampede of hormone-filled teens for who Fifi was talking about.

A boy? Looking at me? What?!?! I could never in a million years imagine why someone would be ogling me. The first sight of Pedro that I laid eyes on was his hair; black, voluminous, curly hair. Then, his style; Dickies navy blue pants, a Thrasher shirt, all-black vans, and a beanie.

“I heard that he likes you. He was basically drooling over you at the mini showcase!” I playfully smacked her arm.

”No guy looks at me, Fifi. He probably had a dentist appointment and the numbing cream they put on his lips didn’t wear off,” I replied, trying to convince myself more so than her that he did not have any interest whatsoever in…… me?

After days of exchanging stares, glances, and everything in between, we finally decided to talk to each other. It was after school - I was hanging out with my friends and practicing our choreography, occasionally playing volleyball, when he thought it was a great time to intervene. I started thumping my leg, blood pressure going up, red filling my cheeks - the ones on my face.

“I’m so thirsty, dude”, I hear him talk. What a nice voice, smooth. Then, for the first time, I put my anxiety in my back pocket (girl’s jeans have no front pockets) and I look straight into his eyes - poop-colored, nice.

“I have some water, would you like some?”
“Yeah, actually, that would be great.”

And that was the start of a short-lived fling. God, I wish I would’ve just waited a little while longer.

A Grinchy Christmas

I waited a full week before dating Pedro (impressive, am I right???). We did all of the middle school, cheesy stuff: spamming each other with pictures, making out all of the time; which is pretty gross, looking back on it. It was tradition to go to Eegee’s after school - ranch fries and a satisfying slushie of any flavor you want. Occasionally, we’d take a trip to the park with his friends, Alex and Jacob.

December, 2017, came. The Final showcase was over, and it was officially break. I set off to Phoenix to be with my best friend of four years, Marie. I went to work with her, watched her close Subway at night, and laid down with her while we laughed and talked about how good it was that her mom got custody of her, and how sad it was when her dad passed away. I still always thought of Pedro, though. I snapchatted, and he rarely said anything back, sometimes never bothering to respond. It made my trip to Phoenix dull, with thoughts of concern and care always on my mind.

When I got back, Pedro was a different person, with a shaved head. He didn’t want to talk about what was going on, always going to his friends for help. I didn’t realize how big of a red flag that was; him not trusting me enough to talk to me. We were not ready to be together - we weren’t even friends.

We had a conversation about taking a break, or what I could do to help him: but nothing was resolved.

“I need to find myself,” he exclaimed. So I left, blocked him on everything, and I cried. It was in that moment I swore to never take breaks with anyone.

A Deep Pit

January, 2018, I was alone with my thoughts. Asking myself over and over, ‘What did I do wrong?’, ‘Where did I go wrong?’, ‘Why didn’t he trust me?’. I was so hurt by someone I was infatuated, not even in love with!

I didn’t want to feel anymore, so I resorted to drugs. I wanted to escape from my mind, go to a place where I was so slumped that my thoughts couldn’t process. I smoked weed, ate edibles, took muscle relaxers, and started smoking cigarettes. That was when I found out that I was allergic to weed. I threw up nine out of ten times when I was high. To be honest, I liked it. I didn’t want to eat anymore. I wanted to feel bad. I guess I felt like… I deserved it. I went back to my old ways, self harming to feel the pain that I couldn’t on the inside. That was when I started being friends with Jacob.

Hidden Feelings

I knew Jacob from Pedro. He was a sweet guy, gave me a 1960 Land 100 Camera, because he knew that I loved to collect. How did I not see that he liked me then?? I’m so oblivious to the fact that someone might actually like me, chubby cheeks and all.

I had a thing for Jacob, even when I was with Pedro. There was something about the way he held himself with his cowboys boots, Levi jeans, and 70s truck. His smile was beautiful, and the moles on his arm and face made him truly unique.

Jacob and I would hang out at Bobby’s house, a friend who supplied us with weed. One night, I was up in the clouds and I decided that I would expose my sexual interest. We cuddled while watching a movie, and he drove me home. This went on for about a month. We would meet at my house, do PG13 stuff. We would hang out at break during school, laugh and look at each other with this spark in our eyes. I liked him, a lot, but I didn’t want to ruin what we had.

“I’m probably your last resort,” I told Jacob one day. I was questioning why he agreed to mess around with me because, as I’ve stated, I have a pretty low self esteem. He gave me this look, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“You are not my last resort,” he whispered with his head down. We then got out of his car and started our day at school.  During break, he was quite quiet - minimal syllables were exchanged in those ten minutes. I skipped to dance and dreaded going to credit recovery, and then the day was finally over.

“Hey, love!” I squealed, walking to Jacob.

“You’re not my last resort,” he pushed out, leaning against his truck, still looking down.

“You’re my first resort.” I stopped in my tracks.

“Is that why you were sad earlier? I’m sorry, I just know that you like goth girls and I’m not exactly like that. The Victoria thing didn’t go down well, so I thought you were just catching whatever you got,” He looked up at this point. I swear, I contracted arrhythmia in that moment.

“I like you, I have before Pedro. I didn’t say anything because he was in the dumps and I thought a relationship might be beneficial for him. I gave you that camera because I know you loved it so much, I played that card game with you all day because I wanted to be in your presence. So, no, you are not my last resort. You are my first.” I melted. That’s the only way I can describe what I felt in that moment.

From there, we dated until I got over Pedro, and then eventually got together.

The Big Love

The first time Jacob said ‘I love you’ was when I was half asleep. We were talking on the phone and I started to doze off. He thought I was sleeping and decided to confess his ‘sin’.

“I love you, babygirl.” Let me tell you, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a good night’s rest as I did then.

Being with him was so breathtaking. Every time he looked at me, even just a glance, his moles and beauty marks would stretch into this dazzling smile, showing his big buck teeth. His hands were so much bigger than mine, encasing them as we held hands, like a child’s would in their mother’s when they crossed the street. I felt so safe in his presence, as if no harm could ever come to me. He was with me when I went into the mental hospital, when I got my permit and first job, when I started JTED. He was there for it all. He filled my life with so much joy; whether it be going out to eat at some restaurant we’ve never heard of before or staying home all day and watching our favorite movies, stuffing our faces and dancing to music that made us feel electric.

He was not my first love, but my hardest. The way he treated me - I never knew I could be loved like that. I mean, I’m only sixteen, but damn, I didn’t think love could feel so pure - oxygen straight out of a cannula.

He would sing ‘You Are My Sunshine’ to me whenever I was having an anxiety attack or in a depressive episode. When I didn’t like myself and started to inflict harm, he was at my side; singing me to ease and holding me down. He loved me, and I, him. Very deeply. I knew what love was from then on.

The Crumbling Cookie

After seven months of complete bliss, things started to get rocky. Fights occurred more often, jealousy started arising in me, and neither of us seemed to be fully happy anymore. I started to nag Jacob about getting a job, because he was to turn eighteen and graduate and he needed money for college. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do: become a butcher, a history teacher, or join the navy because his mother wanted him to. I was concerned out of love, but I don’t think Jacob saw it that way. One day, he decided to wash my clothes. He knew that I was juggling two schools and a job, so he wanted to be kind. There was a new shirt in that pile that got ruined because it was washed with blacks, and I was furious. “I will buy you a new one, I promise” he yelled.

“What with money? You’re broke.”

To this day, I regret saying that to him. I just… snapped. Two months of him applying but not calling, yet always complaining that he wanted a job. Right after I turned sixteen, I tried so hard. I applied everywhere, I called the employers, I remember staying on hold for twenty minutes just to talk to a manager! It took me a month to land a job. So for him to look at me and tell me he wanted one without doing the work made my blood boil. It still wasn’t the right thing to say to him.

A month later, he told me that his teacher and friends said he used to be full of joy the previous year, and now he’s a recluse. We would argue about a girl, Ginger, that always hung around him when I wasn’t present. “Don’t worry about her! She’s just a friend,” he argued. Thirty minutes after expressing my concern about her, he ended it on Halloween, 2018.

And that was my downfall.

Redemption

Here’s the thing about me; I am a logical person, but also an emotional one. You can read me like a book. When I hurt, I break. I feel too much to the point where I can’t get out of bed. Sometimes, I can’t even talk. Either because I don’t have the voice to, or I can’t stand the sound it.

When we broke up, I switched schools. I would cry myself to sleep almost daily, so badly that dry heaving would start to happen. I considered going back to the mental hospital a couple of times, and it just went in circles. My thought process was:

‘I need a break. A place where I can just go and sleep, wake up, eat, and whither in my thoughts. But if I do that, I will miss JTED. If miss more than 18.5 hours of JTED, I am disqualified for a senior pathway, and I want to be an EMT. Also, my mom will have a big hospital bill again. And I’ll miss so much school, I care about my education! But I need a break.’

In the end, I didn’t go to the hospital, I just started to drink and self harm. I remember drinking with friends one night. I had a little too much vodka, and I let my thoughts get the best of me. All I remember was being in the bathtub with the water on, my friends trying to calm me down, blades in my hand, and asking over and over, “Why? Why didn’t he love me, why wasn’t I enough for him? Am I not pretty enough?” (I am pretty, but that night wasn’t). I decided not to drink that much in such a delicate state anymore.

With self-harming, it took awhile to stop. The sad thing with that is, I don’t regret doing it. I don’t mind seeing the scars, and I can’t tell you why. Hurting myself makes me feel like I’m still here, on Earth. It makes the pain that I feel on the inside physical; like it is valid and real. Then, one day, I just stopped. I can’t tell you why I stopped, either, but I suppose it’s a good thing anyways.

December, 2018, my mom went to Iowa to see her best friend and I went to Marie’s house again for Christmas. While there, I saw my ex boyfriend, Deyone, who also happens to be Marie’s cousin (not weird at all, am I right?). We went on a couple of dates; to restaurants, to Marie’s work, to Ross so he could look for clothes. It was terribly fun, but it made me realize so much. I saw that I didn’t need to jump into another relationship so fast, that mine and Jacob’s love was so flawed, that I depended on people for love and validation so much and in the end, I was just *beeeeep* myself over.

I don’t need the hushed whispers of another person to tell me that I’m worth their time, that my eyes shine, that my yellowed teeth blind them - because when it comes down to it, I only have me to depend on.

The saying is true; You need to love yourself before you give others that luxury, or else you’ll be running on empty pretty fast. Okay, I added that last part in, but you get the point.

So right now, as I’m writing this, I feel content. I know that I want to become a theatre teacher for middle schoolers, I know that I love to write poetry and find good movies, I know that I love polaroids and the old-timey feel to cameras. I am so passionate about the things I love that I can go on for hours in a conversation. I am such an interesting, loving person, and I have so much to bring into this world. And when I find that one person to spend the rest of my life with, I will make sure that he gives me as much love as Jacob did.