Every girl has this perfect fantasy about having their own happily ever after, being swept away by a knight in shining armor and running off into the sunset. And I was one of those girls. While I did have "boyfriends" in middle school where we sat together at lunch and hugged each other after school, I never had a real, first boyfriend. One that I could hold hands with at the movies, have a pizza eating contest, and wear matching footie pajamas with. One that I could say I truly fell in love with.
So there I was, nineteen years old, entering into my first year in college without even the experience of having my first kiss. But I had hope. The next four years would be a time where I could get to know my classmates, make new friendships, and possibly find a boy that would treat me like a princess. And eventually I did find someone. You. You appeared to be sweet, funny, and caring.
We began talking around New Years this past year. We spent the first few days discussing Star Wars, the plot, characters, settings. When you said your favorite character was Han Solo, I thought I had found the perfect guy for me. We played pool, went out to eat, even had a Nerf gun war with my suitemates.
One of these nights, I walked you out to your car. I remember you were leaning against the trunk of your car, and we stood there silently for a few minutes. I knew you wanted to say something so I asked you what was on your mind. You told me you wanted to kiss me and wondered if it would be okay. Though I was nervous, I told you yes. The kiss was short. In fact, I was so embarrassed that I hid my face in your jacket afterwards. But when you left and I returned to my room, I couldn't help but smile and blush.
I thought that I had found the perfect guy, a true gentleman. One who would treat me right and care for me. One that fit the image of my knight and shining armor.
But what I thought was my perfect fantasy, ended in a nightmare.
After month of hanging out and talking, we decided to go on our first official date. Nothing special, just Italian food and a movie (The 5th Wave, I think it was). Unfortunately, half way through the movie, I began feeling sick and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and go to sleep. So after the movie, you drove me to my dorm building. But as I said goodbye and started heading to my room, you followed me, not wanting to leave.
What made things worse, my roommate wasn't in the room. I sat my bag and keys on my desk, trying to think of what to say. But you came up behind me and grabbed me. I squirmed in your hold as you tried to kiss me. I tried to shove you away, but you pushed me toward the bed.
I hate thinking of that night. The night where my fantasy of a happy ever after shattered to pieces. Where my knight in shining armor turned out to be the villain. You were suppose to be my Han Solo, and I your Princess Leia.
I don't think you realize what you've done to me.
Because of that night, I feel weak, helpless, and alone. Because of you, I fear relationships. I fear a guy telling me he likes me. I fear his hand touching mine. I fear intimacy. Because of you, I run away from my feelings. I push away those who tell me they like me. I pretend that I am incapable of loving. Because of you.
You were my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first heartbreak.
