After the rumor that ruined my senior year and brought my self-esteem to possibly down into negative numbers, our school held winter track tryouts for the first time in who knows when. I decided to take up this sport, not knowing what to expect other than the relief running gives. From tryouts to running meets, I decided to put myself out there into the world. I came out to friends, why not strangers (coming out to my parents happened after the breakup)?

After one of the meets, I sat in Burger King and ate with track members from my school and other schools. After talking to two really nice girls that were in front of me in line, they wanted to introduce me to a gay friend of theirs (however, this never happened and I found him myself). The next meet came and went, not running against the school these girls were from. The meet that followed we were rivals again. I sat in my Dixon sweatshirt on their teams side of the track. I met some really nice people, which was a change from how awkward walking through the halls were at my school.

From my seat on their side of the track, I sat and saw a handsome boy in tight jeans with the same schools name on it. South Brunswick. He was leaning on the fence with a beautiful black girl (granted my gaydar is not the best in the world but I went for it). As I walked by I complimented the girl on her outfit or hair and made sure to present myself in a way I thought society would accept me: stomach in, standing straight, higher voice (my voice is already higher-pitched), and flamboyant gestures. Afterward, I had strut my no-ass (because of running) back to my side of the track to await my event.

After time went by and I ran the 2-mile event, I was out of breath and dying and was approached by the handsome dark boy. He was with a friend of his who was also gay and I was introduced to both. As the conversation went on, the white boy went away and I was left with this cute, dark, well-dressed teenager. Now let me stress that this is my first time flirting with someone who would actually date me (I flirt with straight men sometimes). He said he was surprised that I would be interested in him since many of his love-interest would go to the tall white friend. I told him that I loved tan skin and just find Latinos and mixed boys so attractive. "I hope this isn't a turn off but I'm Hawaiian." Oh! Very exotic! I do not mind sir (literally no man has found interest in me unless they are the best stalker on the face of the earth for me to not notice).

As the conversation went on, I will admit the next thing I said was stupid (but did not appear that way at the time). "How do you feel about giraffes? Because they are my favorite animal and if you hate them I will stop talking to you right now." He liked pandas but at least he didn't hate giraffes. I have my priorities straight (I have a few stuffed animal giraffes, a key-chain, and a picture hung in the living room). He held my arm, and I his, as we walked for me to get my stuff and head to the buses since the 2-mile was one of the last events. We exchanged numbers and life was good.

Since neither of us had a car, we decided to make long distance work by texting and calling every day. At the track meets, we would sit and talk and flirt and cheer each other on as we ran. He was my first boyfriend and my first kiss. I made him some chocolate candies that my mother and I make during the holidays and we shared some. He put half a chocolate dipped pretzel in his mouth and offered to share it. That was my first kiss and it was sweet and romantic. The next kiss did not require a pretzel to start. It was nice to have my problems melt away with simply pressing my lips against another who cared for me. It was as if the attempt on my life a few weeks before from the rumor meant nothing. Just happiness. Just bliss.

In what I can describe as the weirdest timeline of events, he went from first kiss to "I love you" ( after one month) to "open relationship?" (which I said no to because I believe in monogamy and if it took 17 years to get a guy to find interest in me, I was not gonna share that with anyone) to "first first" (after 2 months of dating, which we were also caught doing.... awkward). Having someone share that sort of intimacy with you just makes all the pain melt away, even for a moment... and then it ended.

About three or four days after I gave him the thing you can only give once, I received the break up text that 1) the long distance thing was not working for him, and 2) he already found someone else. I will admit that I was not crazy before the rumors, but having all of that happen, from rumors to dating to sex to break up text, was a very dramatic change in just two months. It was not ideal, but it was nice while it lasted. It felt great to be loved and appreciated, even for a short time of my life. I sometimes feel that he entered my life for a reason, to bring me up after I fell down to depths I cannot describe. I may have been used but at least I can recover. During this recovering process, until my next relationship, I can plan it out smart. I can listen to my stepmothers advice: "Date at least six months before sex so you know they care for you and don't just use you." How right you are.