Mr Brightside

Mr Brightside

I am not sure if I have mentioned my love life yet. I am sure if anyone is reading my dribble they are just aching to find out more about my super serious, and totally not teen angsty, love life. Here we go.

To be honest all of it is angsty and stupid. That’s why I am only going to discuss one girl. She is the best example of my teen angst when it comes to my love life during my high school years. I am told most people still fall in love like teenagers even when they are a bit older, so in my opinion I am right in the thick of it so I might as well sum up my thoughts on the matter thus far.

It all started when I was at a foam party in the beginning of the year 2013. I had just turned 15 the previous November and I had decided to go outside for once. The party was in the school quad and it was dark and terrible, but then I saw her. I had seen her the previous year when she took a tour of our school, she had silver hair, a short curvy body, heavenly white skin, with light and playful freckles. Her eyes were the type of blue that you wanted the sea to be, but then the sea would often disappoint, her eyes didn’t.

The entire night was spent trying to muster up the courage to talk to this girl. I did, this was the first time I had ever done anything like this, but it felt special. I needed to seize the opportunity. I immediately fell in love with her, she was an aspiring actress, lived on a farm and most importantly, she was insanely beautiful. Seriously she is still one of the prettiest girls I have seen to date, I can’t take that away from her. We started talking on the phone, it became my life to spend as much time as possible speaking with her, and it seemed to be working. Heart emoji’s were used, the hugs we exchanged were getting longer, all seemed to be going well.

Then I saw her with other boys, she would give them the same hugs as she gave me, she would start talking all the more about her ex-boyfriend who is still one of her best friends, just like I was.

Yes, we would talk about relationships, fight, cry and we even kissed once near the end, but we never stopped being “friends.” I was so in love with this girl that I never realised that I was being strung along like a dog. No less than 4 boys were being strung along at one time, being juggled like tennis balls. She was diabolical. Every time I would mention the other boys, she would first tell me that it was all in my mind, and if I pressed the matter further I would be reminded that she could do what she wanted, because we were not in a relationship. Still I would not leave, even when I caught her holding hands with one boy, and grinding on another. I was addicted to her.

I always stayed positive, at least she wasn’t in a relationship with them. She was, she just had the decency to be a w***e when she and I were not speaking, which often happened when I tried to stop being addicted to her for a few months at a time, but it never lasted. Her relationships never lasted either. Still I thought she was special, and she was.

How she ensnared me I still don’t fully grasp, and whether or not it was intentional I still can’t decide, and luckily I don’t care anymore, but after nearly two years of my world subtly revolving around her I could not be positive or hopeful any longer. I realised that what I felt when I was involving her in my life, was anxiety. The excitement of hoping and fighting for a relationship was killing me.

I have no closure. We don’t speak anymore, besides, she never asked any questions once I stopped trying. It all just stopped when I decided it needed to stop and she didn’t seem to care. When I saw her in Plettenberg Bay making out with several different guys, I knew that I had made a good decision for myself. I never asked for closure or an explanation for all of her actions. Asking for closure from the opposite party is often a way to cling to vain hope.

I never wanted to believe that she did not feel the way I felt. I used to think she was being tortured as well, and whenever I tried to figure her out, I inevitably ended up defending her and making up excuses to somehow cling to the hope that she was the angel I saw on that foam filled dance floor.

That was not necessary. No one is perfect, I certainly am not, and she isn’t either, and that’s all the closure I actually needed at the time. I decided to give up on her, and focused on being free instead. And a lot of happiness followed.

The funny thing is, when I think back, she played a huge part in my growth as a person. I decided to make more friends, if only to impress her, and became a prefect, if only to spite her. When I grew to the proper size my shackles broke off almost easily. Maybe that’s my closure.

If a few more bad experiences with girls grow me into the man my future wife is looking for, then I am thankful for all of my past (and future) angst.

So thanks for everything.