Girls Suck. Yes, it's True.
By Flik
Girls suck. Yes, it’s true.
January, 2001. I met this girl, Erica. I knew her by name, and who she was, but didn’t actually talk to her. She sat next to me in my government class, but I never really thought much of her. She was cute, but just another girl. I wanted a relationship so bad, but I never cared enough to try. Never cared enough to go out and find someone. As the semester went along, I started talking to her more often, and then when spring break hit, we swapped phone numbers, and decided to do something during the week we had off.
Saturday night, I call her. We talked on the phone until 4 am. Sunday night. I remember passing out at 3:30. Monday night, we actually decide to do something. She comes over, and we watched a movie. It was a blast. She’s one of the funniest people I know. Tuesday. I call her, awaiting the long-night conversation. She then tells me that she’s had a crush on me since the end of January. She thought I would think she would be weird because she said that. I was astonished. That’s never happened before, it’s always been me that has had the crush on someone. I asked her out on Wednesday. I got an enthusiastic “yes!” She came over, and we hung out again. I kissed her. It was the greatest thing ever. The most eventful, and best spring break of my seventeen years of life just happened upon me. Everything is great! Life is good.
Prom is next month (April. Spring break was in March.) I figured I would have a date by default, but that wasn’t the case. Erica was going with her best friend, which was a guy. No problem. They’re just friends. I didn’t really want to go to prom, anyway (so I thought.) Anyway, I feign trying to find a date, and prom rolls around. Erica calls me before she leaves for dinner, and says that they’re going to a party after prom, and she asked me if I wanted to come. I said “of course!” She told me to be ready by 1:30, when prom ended. I got ready. It was going to be fun. They pick me up, and we go over to the party. It’s at the best friend’s house. We go downstairs, and no one has arrived yet. The best friend goes upstairs to get some food for us, and it’s just me and her. She turns to me, and says “please don’t be angry when I say this…”
I felt like I was walking through a dark alley, and some guy leapt out and shot me in the chest. “Austen (the best friend) asked me out at prom, and I said yes.” Now the guy is stomping on my bleeding body. As much reason as I had to get mad, I didn’t. I’m now getting robbed of all my money (dignity) by the murderer. I faked everything that night. Every smile, every laugh. I went home at 10am with my tail between my legs.
I called her up the next day. Asking her why she said yes. Asking her why she didn’t stop and think about me. She replied “I couldn’t ruin his night, it was so fun, and…he asked me…” I’m sorry, but… that’s not a really valid reason. Next answer. “I thought you’d be okay with it.” What the hell? Where’d she get that idea? “Well, during spring break, you asked me why I wasn’t going out with him…” Um, sorry, but I was checking to make sure I didn’t have any conflicts like this happen! (I guess I was wrong.) The next two weeks were absolute hell. I dreamed about her every night. I still had her scent in my room, and I was going nuts smelling it. I couldn’t get her off my mind. None of my friends could do anything, even though they tried.
I’m still hurting over it. It comes up now and then, but I’m trying. I tried to at least be friends with her, because I told her stuff that not many people know. She ignored me like the plague. I called her up and asked her about it. I asked her if she still wanted to be friends. I wasn’t trying to be mean, I really wanted to know. I didn’t want to be given a false sense of security and friendship. She said that she was really sick (which she was at the time) and was on medication that made her easily irritated. She wanted to be friends. Okay, that’s fine. She’s ignoring me even more, now. I talked to her today. It basically consisted of this.
Me: “What’s Up?”
Erica: “Not much, just filling out some surveys.”
Me: “Oh, I’m really bored, so I decided to call.”
Erica: “Okay…what’s up?”
Me: “Not much.”
*queue awkward silence*
Erica: “I have to go. Bye. *click* ”
Fun. Not only has she ripped my heart out. She’s playing golf with it. 18 holes of golf.
I consider myself to be an emo kid. That whole situation did a number on me.
It’s not really good to depress an emo kid that’s already depressed, you know?
Also, I learned that I will probably not have a mature relationship within my last year of high school. Most girls around here are simple, and cliché. I will not find one with similar thoughts resonating in her mind.
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