This is to get my thoughts and feelings out:
Everyone says he was and is a dickhead. His mum thinks he’s no good - they fight and he causes issues. He’s almost a man now, close to 18, so she can’t do much with him now; she doesn’t know how. He went off the rails, throwing his awaiting cricket career away. He’s a ladies man. He’s trouble: to girls and himself.
The thing is, I don’t see it that way.
I saw a different side. I saw a gentle, loving guy. I saw nervousness and humour.
We played and laughed in the middle of the street. He picked me and spun me around.
He held me to him so gently. He kissed me so softly. Every touch was love.
We were walking and talking. He furrowed his brows in that way he does and told me I shouldn’t walk alone at night, it’s not safe.
He gave me so much hope and wonder. He showed how I should be treated - with gentle care. He made me happy.
One day he told me he was confused about things in his own world. That broke my heart. He held me while I cried, wiping my tears away - apologising.
That’s not the boy they described. Lost, confused and hurt; yes. But that no good dickhead? He doesn’t exist in my eyes.
I don’t miss him anymore and I don’t cry. But years later and his love still holds a small, yet significant place in my heart.
I hope he kept my mascara stains on his school jumper.
Everyone says he was and is a dickhead. His mum thinks he’s no good - they fight and he causes issues. He’s almost a man now, close to 18, so she can’t do much with him now; she doesn’t know how. He went off the rails, throwing his awaiting cricket career away. He’s a ladies man. He’s trouble: to girls and himself.
The thing is, I don’t see it that way.
I saw a different side. I saw a gentle, loving guy. I saw nervousness and humour.
We played and laughed in the middle of the street. He picked me and spun me around.
He held me to him so gently. He kissed me so softly. Every touch was love.
We were walking and talking. He furrowed his brows in that way he does and told me I shouldn’t walk alone at night, it’s not safe.
He gave me so much hope and wonder. He showed how I should be treated - with gentle care. He made me happy.
One day he told me he was confused about things in his own world. That broke my heart. He held me while I cried, wiping my tears away - apologising.
That’s not the boy they described. Lost, confused and hurt; yes. But that no good dickhead? He doesn’t exist in my eyes.
I don’t miss him anymore and I don’t cry. But years later and his love still holds a small, yet significant place in my heart.
I hope he kept my mascara stains on his school jumper.
