I made a mistake last night. I never should have agreed to what you wanted. Curiosity got the better of me and I gave you everything. If I don’t want to, I never have to talk to you again. I lied to you. I told you you weren’t my first. I told you I had done it all before. I thought it was what I wanted. We talked about everything. You told me about your life and I told you about mine, and by the end of the night, since we talked for six hours straight, I felt as though I knew you. But I don’t, not really.
Why you? You were the first to tell me I am beautiful. You were the first to hold me in your gaze with something more. And that has to count for something. Chances are I will never speak to you again. Chances are life will never bring us to the same place at the same time, ever. We will always be worlds apart.
What made me choose you? I can’t say. Before I met you I thought I knew what it meant to be mature, an adult, grown up. Now I feel as though the world has changed and everything is so much darker and harsher than I ever imagined. I lost my innocence for you. We will never love one another. I regret giving all of myself to you.