I am a fifteen year old girl. I roam through the hallways of my medium sized school and see an abundance of pregnant girls.
My mother had me when she was 16, and my father left her. She was just a hormonal teenage girl, so please, Readers, do not judge her. But, when I turned three, my mother married the most vile person that has ever walked the earth. This man created my two little sisters. But he beat me, and he raped me. My mom only knew he hit me, and she would distract him into hitting her so that I could run away. I had to be homeschooled because of my bruises. My mom was my best friend. When I turned seven, my mommy died. She got really sick, and just left. I can get angry with her, and say that she abandoned me all that I want to, but I could never accuse her of not loving me. I thought I would never be loved again until…
There is this boy. He was raped when he was seven by his friends older brother, he did pot, he was in and out of foster homes for years, and now he’s finally home. People look at him and see some punk.
One day he walked into this little place that I walked into and I fell for him. It wasn’t for the boy that I saw, it was for the boy inside of him that no one else did. He became my best friend in the world. I told him every secret, every drop of fun fell into the cup that was shared with him. I dreamt of him. I stared at him. I realized new things about him. I wrote for him, I closed my eyes and saw him. I just knew. Finally, I told him. He felt the same. June 5 became the most glorious day.
I was depressed. I did bad things to myself. Then he came into my life and made me happier than I have ever thought I could be.
Then, I gave myself to him, in one night of short love making.
My Grandmother had adopted me when I was 8, and we have a very open relationship. So I told her. I broke her heart and swore to her that I wouldn’t ever sleep with anyone again until I am older. I broke that promise. I slept with him again. No one knew about the other times.
I do not have any STD’s. I am not pregnant(found out with my best friend after 5 pregnancy tests).
We haven’t done anything for a while and one day he looked at me and said, “I love you. I don’t think that we should do sexual things anymore.” I was terrified. Did that mean he wanted to leave me? He must’ve noticed my change in features because he hugged me and said, “I don’t want to because we are kids. I know that I am going to marry you, so we have years to do those things. But let’s just love each other without the stress of sex.” I was thrilled because I felt like a beautiful girl that was worth it because my boy thinks I am worth waiting for.
My family doesn’t like him. But it’s because of the choice that WE made. We are two adolescents who are completely above our years.
He is so adorable because he uses intense manners around my parents, confesses his love for me in his most respectful ways, and even uses uses proper english.
Alas, my family is so stubborn, that things like that don’t matter to them, yet, they will still respect them with the respect that they recieve.
I know I love him. And Readers, if you believe that I am to young to understand love, I would just like to say that if you go through the other posts, you will see that others(who are much older) do not understand either. Martin Luther King Jr. wanted his people to be judged by the content of their character instead of the color of their skin. Well, I want people to judge me by the love in my heart instead of the years of my age.
My past has caused me to be an adolescent adult because I am mature, and responcible for my age, and I just see things beyond my years. He is the same(as much as a boy can be, at least). Cupid is always to be made without eyes/blindfolded because love is blind. It doesn’t care how old you are, what ethenticity, or religion you are. And in Romeo and Juliet’s case, it doesn’t care what family belong to. You WILL feel it, and that is the one thing that holds this planet together, and prove that, in spite of our differences, we are all the same.
If you are going to judge me because I am in love at 15, remember what it was like when you were my age, feeling things this way for the first time. To you, it was more real than the fact that the quadratic equation is x=-b+ or – the square root of b squared minus 2ac all divided by 2a.
Yes, one day this love will seem silly, but that’s because the heart grows older, and the scars make it more difficult to trust, therefore giving you complete satisfaction when someone breaks through the barrier. But right now, I fully believe that the equation of my love is: late nights+laughter+his eyes+his smile+his personality+sunsets+planning for the future+crying in his arms+kissing in the rain+a zillion other reasons=this one thing that can only be called “love”.
He is all I want. Do you remember that feeling?
(Screen) Name: TruelyMadlyDeeply
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