Not before now, anyways.
I’ve never even thought about it before, claimed I’d kill myself if I ever did. And I know you won’t have sex with me. I’m jailbait for another nine months. I know you’re sexually attracted to me, as I am to you, but we made a promise. I will never ever let you go to jail over me.
I suppose I should start at the beginning, some three years ago when I first met you. I knew I had a crush on you, before I even knew much about you. I told you three months later, when we were both single. I didn’t want you to go to jail because at that point, I was only 14.
Fast forward three years. I find I still have a huge crush on you, and you admit to having you on me, for the same length of time. You and me together, honey, you get firecrackers. But, I’m with him. So we just talk, not even cuddling, no holding hands. He makes me feel nothing. I feel nothing when we kiss, I feel nothing holding his hand. He’s my friend, so I wanted to try.
Next time we hang out, we cuddle, watch a movie, kiss a couple of times. The next time we hang out, we cuddle more, kiss more, flirt more, make out. Extreme makeout. Like, very sexual making out. And yes, you claimed me as yours. The bite marks are evidence of that. And I like them. God, I like everything you did.
I don’t want you to make your mom mad. I really don’t. So I want to formally meet her, talk to her. I want to tell her that I would never let you do anything that would get you in jail. Never. Now, after I turn 18….well, that wouldn’t be a problem.
But that means keeping myself on a leash. A very tight leash, because I totally wanted more. And here’s where you laugh at me, saying I’m addicted. Honey, yeah, I’m addicted. And for the first time, I can say, I’m in this for the long run. After I end things with him. And after the 27th. So in December, I’m in it for as long as you’ll have me.