I NEVER talk about him. Consider yourself warned.

He was nice.

Just, nice.

Terrified of my dad,

just like all seventh grade boys would be.

And it isn't called love;

it wasn't even my first.

So if 'dating' someone for a month and a half is equivalent to love,

maybe it was.

I doubt it.

I wish I saved his text messages

and the pointless stuff he gave me.

It would be cool to be friends,

But we ended it

and he changed.

So why do I feel like a monster?