#and eventually years later in The House i told myself a specific age lil

[apeshit]

was trying to remember all the places i used to live these are the childhood houses i can remember and some of them i only remember my room

[wenotaboutlove]

prom night

To start this blog I thought I should start with my earliest memory. This is a sweet yet cringy one, so buckle up!

Prom. A night to remember. Throughout high school I always imagined myself going to senior prom with a hot guy and loosing my virginity to him. Tale as old as time. For me that boy was Sean. Sean was very out of my league. Tall, smart, quiet, popular, athletic, and oh so hot. I only ever spoke to him thrice, but when I did my heart would skip a beat. He had a nonchalance about him, a je ne sais quoi. For some reason I held on to the hope of him asking me to prom. Spoiler alert, he didn’t ask me. No one officially asked me, actually. Instead I “went” to prom with a friend of a guy who wanted to go to prom  with my best friend. I say “went” because we didn’t arrive together, there was no corsage, no limo, nada! We met up at prom and had awkward conversation. Plus there was another girl, a lower classmen, who was continuously flirting with him. I let her have him- I later heard she gave him head at an after party. So Jeremiah, if you’re reading this, you’re welcome. 

During the dance I was actually invested on another guy who was also named Sean. I was hoping he would notice me but he didn’t. My friend and I decided to leave the dance and head to an after party. At that point I was feeling the prom night blues. I didn’t have an actual date. No guy was dying to dance with me. My friends were lame and didn’t want to throw that ass in a circle. Not to mention my makeup lady did me dirty and I looked a hot mess. But it was alright because there was still an after party. My friend and I hopped on an uber and we were on our way! 

I’d like to start by saying we didn’t know whose house we were going to. A friend of a friend sent us the flyer to the party. The uber ride took a shockingly long time. We went from Buckhead to Bankhead real quick. When we arrived we were confused. There were about 10 people there. We thought maybe we had the wrong house. We decided we would give it 20 minutes. If more people didn’t arrive then we would leave.

Thankfully people did start to arrive. We didn’t recognize any of them but hey, it was starting to get lit. Being the social anxiety lil bitch I am, I was a wallflower. I will say i do regret not dancing my ass off, because if I were dancing none of the shit I’m about to tell y’all would’ve happened. 

A group of Hispanic boys are standing and talking next to me. And let me just paint y’all a picture. There I am, full face of cakey makeup, sitting on the floor, wearing my friends tshirt with no bra because apparantley you’re supposed to pack an after party outfit. All of a sudden one of the guys comes up to me and says “ You tryna fuck with my friend?”. Although I was flattered for being considered I politely declined. Eventually two of the boys and I start sparking an actual converstion. I ask if they were coming from their school prom and they said yes. I’ll admit I thought one of them was pretty cute.

Now before we go any further I need to tell ya’ll something about me and Hispanic boys, more specifically Mexican boys. I don’t date them. I will date anyone else but Mexican boys. Before ya’ll call me racist let me explain. I’m Mexican, and I mean I was born in Mexico and had to cross the goddamn border. I don’t go for fellow beaners because they all either look like my brother or my cousins or my uncles. It makes me uncomfortable. Plus, for the most part, Mexican guys are not my style. They’re all so cheesy and corny, it grosses me out. So there. 

Anyways, of course the boy that I was somewhat interested in didn’t really pay attention to me, but his less cute friend did. By that point I was willing to take what I could get. His name was Patrick. Odd name considering he had “el nopal en la frente”. So there we were. Patrick and I being wallflowers at this random after party. I was tipsy at that point after eating some alcohol laced gummies- yes those are a thing. We talked and talked. Well, I talked and talked. I think I told this guy my whole life story. It was getting late and I was thinking “ is this it? Am I going to have sex with him?”. I thought it over and decided that I wouldn’t. He asked to kiss me and I just felt gross, my makeup was droopy, I felt very gutter slut. I said no to the kiss. 

I will say he was a very sweet guy. When I got cold he put his jacket over me. He walked me to the car when my friend’s mom came to pick us up. I caved and gave him my snap. On the car ride I did feel a little gitty. Someone out there liked me, even if I wasn’t too crazy about him. I felt like a teen. All throughout high school no boy had ever showed interest in me. I had never felt wanted. With him I could tell he got butterflies around me. It felt nice. 

The next day at school I was more than excited to tell my girlfriends about my “crazy” night. They were so happy for me. I had finally found a guy that liked me, I was finally validated. My friend told me that he asked her if “my baby had gotten home ok”. He called me his “baby”! I had many thoughts rushing through my head. “Is he going to be my first boyfriend?’”, “do I actually like him or the idea of having a bf?”, “I don’t care, I’ll finally have a bf!”. 

We texted back and forth. I can’t quite remember what we actually talked about but it was nice to have someone to text. Then one day I get a text that says “I have to tell you something”, not sure why but I automatically knew what he was going to say. It all clicked, he’s not 18. I never asked his age, I just assumed he was 17 or 18. He then says “ I’m not 18, I’m 16″. Massive yuck! Any maniscual feeling I had for this boy went out the window. I have a thing where I can not date anyone younger than me, even if they’re just one year younger. I instantly see them as a fetus. I told him it was ok, we could remain friends. He goes on to say that we should still go out. I informed him that it would technically be ilegal, considering I was almost 18 at the time. He was presistant. He said no one needed to know. Umm hecky no, I was not trying to catch a case, especially since I barely even liked the guy!

He did not care. He then proceeds to drop the L word. The freakin L word! I told him it is impossible for him to be in love with me, he didn’t even know me! We had only known each other for about four days at this point! He goes on to say it was “love at first sight”. I came to the realization that he was just a boy of 16. He had no experience. He didn’t know what love is. He was just eager to find someone, a complete stranger. Someone to try and make him feel nice, wanted. I sympathized with him. I agreed to a date.

Now, this date wasn’t for us to further our “relationship”. It was to make him see that he didn’t love me. We are completely different. I saw this date as an oppurtunity to let him down and teach him a few things. 

Lessons on my agenda:

-Veganism. How it can aid in global warming and sustainability

-The crisis in Venezuela. Most people are dying of hunger

-Gun violence

Yes, I did indeed talk about these and only these topics. And of course he was more interested in getting to know me but that wasn’t going to happen. We had decided to meet at a cupcake shop and I strategically got there early and bought myself a cupcake. Prior to that he had mentioned how he wanted to pay because “that’s what gentlemen do”. I guess he wanted to show me that chivalry wasn’t dead. But the awkwardness was alive and well. The whole time he could barely look at me. I could tell he was nervous. I didn’t make it easy on him considering the fact I dressed in the cutest little outfit, I wanted to really make it hard on him. I saw it as an opportunity for him to really grow. We walked for a while and he was bold enough to make a move. He very swiftly grabbed my hand and I very swiflty snatched it away. The date came to an end shortly after that. My parents came to pick me up. My mom always remembers him and ask when I’ll see him again, even after years. After that I made it clear to him that I was never going to date him. Seems harsh but I knew I would never come around to like him. Our texts became dry. Until eventually we stopped talking. 

I still think of him fondly. The first guy I ever went on a date with. His curly hair. His bashfulness. His Irish name. Patrick, thank you for starting my dating career, even if you were underage.