I once knew a boy whose stormy eyes stole my very breath away just by looking directly into mine. Either in fear or morbid fascination, he always managed to captivate me. Too young and dumb to know any better, his stare was enough to leave me an emotional wreck. I was either intoxicatingly enamored by his tumultuous sea of blue or overwhelmed by the notion that diving into such deep waters would be my ultimate ruin, drowning me once and for all.
From the tender age of fifteen, his eyes promised me so much.
Promised me pain, suffering, and almighty misery.
And for years, he made good on all his promises.
He became the bane of my very existence. The boy that sought me out, only to torment me, purposely casting a shadow on every joyous moment I had in my pathetic life.
I’m not going to lie to you, my life was definitely an endless ocean of dullness.
Especially considering the only rush that excited me—the only thing that made me feel alive—was taking him on and provoking his wrath at every turn. I never shied away from his bullying. I didn’t curl up into the fetal position and take his abuse. Oh no, I always fought back. I made it a point of showing him he could never break me, no matter how ingenious his attempts were. My world could have been falling on top of me and I still would’ve mustered the strength to give him the same hell he showered me with.
And what glorious battles we had.
I thrived and yearned for them.
But not once did I think I’d lose the war.
It never occurred to me what his true end goal was—that somehow, against all odds, he’d be capable of stealing something as precious as my heart.
Like a fool, I gift wrapped it for him, naively believing that somehow it would be safe in his malicious hands.
He played the long game, I’ll give him that.
So much so, that right up until the very end, I never saw it coming—how deviously cruel his black heart really was or how calculating he’d been from the start to make me fall the way I did.
He played his part beautifully, and like a sucker, I fell for it.
Kudos to him.
He really did a number on me.
Because of the boy I once hated, I’d never be the same girl again.
