a young boy pt. 1

there’s this boy. he’s younger but he made me feel alive. he was my little secret. the happiest week of my life that i had. yes, i said week. who knew one second of the day that he would send me a streak could put a smile on my face. when he asked for nudes in a not so subtle way, i sent them. why you ask? because he made me feel good about myself. because he made me feel comfortable about it. because last and the most important, he made me feel confident. at that moment my size, shape, and looks were the last thing that i thought about it. i wanted nothing more for him to love what i sent. yes, he was probably using me and now that i think about it, i’m hurt. i shouldn’t have let myself get hurt. i shouldn’t have given him what he wanted. i should’ve stood up for myself, protected myself, and loved myself without a mans attention. but that didn’t happen. it’s 12:09 am and here i am in bed writing this because i can’t get my mind off of him. my every thought is consumed by him. i don’t remember the last time a boy, a boy so young made me feel so so alive. i can’t remember the last time i would smile at a name that would come up on my screen. i can’t remember the last time a boy had made me so happy but so sad all at the same time. i want nothing more then to hold that one last conversation with him. i want nothing more then to hug him so tight one last time. i want nothing more then to jump up and scream his name in excitement because i miss him. just one last time. i want the experience of that first and last kiss with him. the first of many with him. there’s this boy. he’s younger but he makes me feel alive.