08 March 2011
The One I Ruined for the Next Girl
In 10th grade, I dated this guy, who I’ll call Jason. I ruined him. I was one of the very few black girls at my all-girl high school. Every other one hated me. But I was the one that a lot of the guys at our brother school, St. John Bosco, liked. I was down-to-Earth, uber confident, and a major tease. [Fun fact: I was a virgin up until a few weeks before high school graduation, though no one believed me].
After a couple of weeks of awkwardness, we became friends. We share the same birthday and we exchanged gifts that year. It was special to me even though I knew that we’d never be back together. I moved on to my next victim. However, in the summer before college, he stopped by my house since he was in the area. We sat on the porch at 3am talking about his girlfriend. By that time, he’d been with her for a few years, which made me a little jealous because I couldn’t hold onto a relationship for shit. Anyway, as he was telling me about their argument, he was also explaining some background history. He had begun smoking weed, getting into trouble at school, had made his girlfriend get almost more than 5 abortions, and getting into arguments with his mom, who I absolutely adored. Upon hearing this, I was at a loss for words. I jokingly said, “Wow. I guess I did ruin you. Oops, my bad.” Even though he was kind of tipsy, he agreed with me. I didn’t want to hurt him because I knew my capabilities. I wanted to preserve his virginal nature, but I guess it backfired.