Sk8er Boi

"He was a boy She was a Girl

Can I make it any more obvious?

He was a punk

She did ballet

What more can I say?

He wanted her

She'd never tell

Secretly she wanted him as well

But all of her friends

Stuck up their nose

They had a problem with his baggy clothes"  ~Avril Lavigne

Trigger Warnings:
Language, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression
  

   The last post was full of darkness so I left him out.  It wouldn't be fair for him to have to share that part of this narrative. I fell in love in 99.. foolishly adults say youths can't fall in love.. yet life is about constantly getting our hearts broken isn't it? I was 14 he lied said he was 16 a week later he admitted he was 17 it didn't matter he could have been 25 and a hunchback.  I fell so completely deeply in love with him.The kind of love that Manson's ladies probably felt for him.
     Luckily he wasn't Manson he was a 17 year old boy who had failed a couple years of school, been moved around a ton by his shitty mother and her husband ..  His biological dad was a piece of work and was in jail for stabbing him in a fit of alcoholic rage.  He had a million problems; PTSD, fathered a kid some where in the last state he lived in (that he wasn't allowed to see), he mom was a nut job (she still is) and my school thought he was trash and wanted him kicked out for good.  And to me he was a mixture of a God and a misunderstood saint. My heart still tightens when I think about how much I loved him. I'm sure in typical fashion as the romantic movies go I was a good girl trying to save the bad boy.
     However isn't the underdog always worth saving? The lost one that just desperately needs to be loved... I was happy to take that job, at first he accused my interest as a jest, that I was trying to trick him.  "Your kind doesn't date my kind" In my most daring dramatic moment I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him to silence his questions and that was it.  My parents were iffy... the age difference was a biggie, the fact that he had a Marlboro habit didn't help. But they loved me and I had never given them a reason not to trust me.  They came around and eventually fell in love with him too.
     He still did stupid shit though.. at school we were still feeling the after shocks of the Columbine Massacre the school year before and his dumb ass called in a bomb threat <insert eyeroll here> from the payphone at the damn school <insert eye roll here too> along with the fact that he almost always brought his guitar to school with him <triple eye roll> so the principle who hated "his kind" got his wish and he was expelled and had to finish the year doing home schooling. My parents scolded him for acting stupid, but ultimately knew it was attention seeking behavior.  My friends omg my friends they thought I had abandoned all reason... there was no hope for me, I had lost my freaking mind. He was a skater boy, with Tripp pants,and a skateboard.. Marlboros and the most beautiful blue eyes you have ever seen.  I can picture him now sitting on a bed, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, guitar across his lap, mischievous baby blue eyes looking at me and a grin that could make the Devil sigh.
       Spent 6 months loving him with my entire being.  Sitting through countless band practices, meeting new friends whom other wise I would have never known.  I ventured out of my comfort zone and tried new things, tried to learn guitar (I sucked), I wrote my first and only song.. a lively diddy about life blood pouring from someones chest ;) My depression even got a little better.  He loved me so gently like he was afraid I would break, like I might runaway, always begging me to not leave him like so many even his own family had... He wrote me love songs and sang me to sleep with his arms wrapped around me, like the world meant nothing at all.. If he had asked I would have left my life and ran away its that simple, it was that kind of love for me, its also the kind that tears your heart out when its gone.
      Things were not 100% perfect my depression was still there and he liked to sneak off and smoke pot and he insisted I not go when he did it.. he wanted to keep me innocent, he never pushed for sex he wanted to keep me pure , he insisted that one day he would marry me and we would have a family and other fairytale bullshit.  Then one day he sat me down and told me he couldn't keep me.  That I was the marrying kind not the f**king kind and that guys like him were not worthy of the marrying kind ... I was in shock now 15 and so naive and I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me and the glass ceiling shattered and I fell totally apart.  I screamed at him till my throat was raw as he packed up his stuff (he had basically moved in with us) , tears burned my eyes as I threw things at him while he tried to put his belongings in the car.  I was a madwoman, crazed and desperate and then numb as I watched tail lights down my driveway into the dark.
      But he did something else that night he told my mom that I was a cutter and that I was and had been self harming for years ( about 8 years by then) and that she needed to not leave me alone and watch me closely because he was afraid that I would kill myself. Of course this led to a huge fight with my parents that I so didn't need on top of loosing the love of my life.  But they did need to know of course they didn't offer to get me mental help because you know what God forbid would people think.. that night was spent climbing out my window, to sit in the darkness of my driveway, gravel cutting groves into the backs of my legs while I meticulously drew crimson lines down the tops of my thighs.  I had to use contraband sharp edges as my mom had confiscated all the knives and scissors thinking that was all I could use.  Taking long drags off a cigarette and breathing out my pain.