the story of us, part 1.

I was fifteen, you were eighteen.
I had been out of my first, and very serious, relationship for a number of months and you were single and, if I remember correctly, sexually frustrated.
I added you on myspace because that's what you did back then, in myspace's first year or so. You added people you didn't know and made a million friends because that's what was cool. I thought you were cute with your long hair and your combat boots.
So we started emailing, and then instant messaging. I remember you were talking about visiting me at some point for a weekend, and we would have a weekend long relationship. I liked you a lot, and you felt the same way, I believe.
You would always shy away from compliments, so I started handing them out like crazy. I went crazy for your epic compliments,
"You have a face I could paint a thousand times and never get bored. And I never paint the same thing twice."

I never let you tell me about your relationships because I was jealous. And why wouldn't I be? All of a sudden, instead of having you tell me I'm pretty and how much you want to see me, you're talking about some amazing new person who happens to live in your city. I was jealous of her, them, and of San Diego. That entire city had you to itself and I couldn't be there no matter how much I wanted to be. I was stuck here in Portland and couldn't get away. I was fifteen. What was I going to do? Pine. I sat here and pined away and dated a few losers.

You moved to Texas for college and God knows what else. You got a girlfriend who I thought was very plain looking. You, however, are not plain looking, so I had no idea how that girl got you. She did look really sweet. Then there was the crazy one that I couldn't stand. You told me you were "over the tea kettle in love" with her, and you planned on proposing. I was happy that you were so happy, but I kept hoping you wouldn't marry her. I hadn't even met you yet!