“Of all the people that you’ve ever kissed am I your favorite”

she asked, my eyes wide staring up intensely. He was shocked by the question. Frankly, she was shocked too.

she felt his heart speed up through my palm that rested on his chest. watching as his green eyes burned into her. Watching and analyzing. Trying to puzzle together words that they both knew weren't going to fit regardless.

What had provoked the question? Months of contemplation. she was sixteen and he was twenty-two, and they both knew that he broke every single rule. that may be why she was so intent on having him be the next pursuit. she wanted to know what thoughts filled his mind, no she wanted every single one of those thoughts to have her name written in stars. I wanted to feel worthy of his obsession so I became obsessive. I even read all the books, to become impressive.

In the moments directly after she asked that fateful question, her body filled up with dread. Moments of pure and utter regret. Any answer he would give would be insufficient. Frankly, knowing his lips graced someone else’s face was enough to dissatisfy her taste. And so she flinched as the words left his lips but I hadn’t really listened to them yet.

Flinching and filled with dread. That’s how I will always remember us. The answer he gave me, was everything sixteen year old me hoped for — & I’ve worked long and hard to scrub all that from my mind.

I knew it then and I know it now. As smart as a sixteen year old could be, she was still sixteen.

I chastise so much of what I did back then. I blame on it on stupidity, an individuality complex and maybe too many reruns of skins.

Something gave me pause today. An instagram post funnily enough;

“maybe I wasn't a bad person at sixteen, maybe I was just sixteen”