This isn't quite a rant, it's more of a lament.

Earlier this year I loved a boy.

And before you scold me for being cliche and ridiculous, let me tell you about it. Because it was the most teen fiction thing that has ever happened to me.

I met this boy around this time last year, and I liked him as soon as I saw him. He was cute and witty, and he made me laugh. The only trouble with him, and this is a BIG trouble, was that he liked my friend. To be fair, every boy I know has been in love with her at some point or another.

She broke his heart.

She completely threw him under the bus as soon as they got close enough for her to see that he wasn't perfect.

Naturally, I saw my chance. But I didn't take it.

He pined for her for months.

A few months ago, I started to wonder if maybe he was growing to like me. After all, we spent a lot of time together and we were good friends. We belonged to the same 'group', our families hung out together, and his little siblings loved me. He laughed at all of my stupid puns and we ended up sitting next to each other a lot.

So I told him.

I've always been terrified of being rejected, but I told him that I liked him anyway.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"I like you."

And quiet.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just I like you, too."

We got close after that. Or, at least, I thought we got close. 

We sat together and I told him my entire story, which is something I've only done for a couple of people. He told me his story. We swapped favorite colors, favorite seasons, favorite songs. We laughed at stories from our earlier lives.

I fell in love with this idiot.

"So, what color are your eyes, exactly?" he asked one day after the first day he knew I liked him. "Are they brown, or are they hazel? Because the light is always so different, and no matter how much I look, I can't tell."

I was so stupid.

"I don't think I've ever met a girl like you before."

I was so naive.

"I like your last name."

Someone shoot me.

"You don't get to call me smart unless you'll let me call you beautiful."

Why? God, why?

"I'll see you soon."

And as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he forgot all the things he said to me and walked away with another girl. A friendlier girl. A wilder girl.

Perhaps I deserved it all. Naive, and quiet. Goofy and sarcastic when known better. I'm not hot. I'm not really outgoing. I'm not what you'd consider, 'popular'.

I'm me. And I foolishly thought he appreciated that.

Well, he talked to that girl for several months, pissed my mother off with how he treated me, how he lied about it all. 

Then, he came back.

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm an idiot, I know."

"There probably isn't much of a chance you'll forgive me for this, but..."

"Do I have a chance?"

No.

"Maybe."

"What do I have to do?"

Don't hurt me again.

"Prove yourself."

I went to a friend's party that night.

And I danced with him.

So.

Proof that this Anne girl is an idiot.

Still naive.

Still probably shouldn't be telling anyone about this.

That is the story of a football player, and how I believed him.

May god have mercy on anyone who ever believes what boys say.

~anne