Early Immaturity

Why didn’t he call, man? Like, I am such a good girlfriend to him, and he can’t even frigging call me when he says he’s going to frigging call me! The next day, I, like, go to school, right? And he’s all like “Whatever, man. I mean, sorry, I uh…had to do somethin’.” “What the hell did you just have to do that you couldn’t call your own girlfriend?! We have been goin’ out for a full month now and you forgot our ‘montherversary’. How could you?”
“Look, I’m sorry, baby. Can you forgive me…please?” And then he started kissing me, and I couldn’t stay mad at him, ya’ know? I just get all week when he does that, physically and emotionally. I’d give way to a bear for a frigging kiss like that.
I try so hard to be a good girlfriend to him, really, I do. I bring him greasy French fries when he’s at his job. And then I go to kiss him even though he has car oil all over him since he is, well, a mechanic. And he’s all sweaty too! I mean who wants to kiss somebody who’s as sweaty as a track runner after the ten mile race?
And what do I get back? Forgotten phone calls and missed dates, crying nights and sad chick flick movies. My friends don’t even comfort me. They left me a long time ago when I refused to break up with him. And he didn’t even acknowledge that.
But I guess it’s all worth it. He’s such a hottie. And even in his work uniform, he is a little hot, I must admit. But how am I supposed to be able to stand up for myself? I mean, I’m just a girl who’s in love…What’s wrong with that? Is that even a bad thing? I’m still benefitting from the relationship. I think.
One day, we were sitting by the crystal blue pool, dangling our feet in the water. He turned to me all of a sudden and said, “I’m leaving you. Sorry, babe. You’re hot and all, but totally not my type.” He got up, his watery legs shimmering with their fresh sunburn. His eyebrows were bought together because of the sun shining in his eyes. I started balling. Not crying. Sobbing. Dreadful disgusting slimy tears bursting out of my eyes. I was a foolish girl, truly I was. He mumbled a small “ew” and walked off. I ran home and locked myself in my room. I wanted to die. Truly. My first boyfriend dumped me. I hated my life! I told my mother and father to leave me alone, stop bringing me food, and that I was love sick and couldn’t go to school.
Now, I see that I really was a fool for keeping him for more than a day and that it was best that he broke up with me. He was a guy who was trying to resist all signs of affection and really only wanted a girlfriend for the glory that came along with it. He probably talked about me and how annoying I was when we were going out and the bothersome things I had done. But now, who cares? I know he didn’t care about me. The other day, I saw him beating up on a girl, making purple marks on her arms that she put her sleeves over so no one noticed. So, quietly, I walked away so he wouldn’t notice me and I went to work to forget about my younger years of immaturity and stupidity. I forgot about being a fool in love.