Back to Reality

I had never woken up in a man's arms. I had never slept in the same bed with the man I had sex with. I had never done anything reserved for those who were in an actual relationship. My first so-called relationship was as immature as two teenagers in love could be. We had sex only once, in a hotel where we didn't even stay for the night since we had to go back before his parents or my father found out that we were somewhere we shouldn't have been.

Our second time was supposed to happen the night Jackson died. The news had gotten to me before I sneaked out of the house. My "relationship" sort of died that night as well. My boyfriend didn't show up at the funeral. A broken girlfriend was too much for him to handle.

I was trying to keep myself together until the end of Jackson's killer's trial, but the unjust sentence did something my failed relationship couldn't. It turned the switch. I rebelled against everything. I drank, partied, and slept with a few guys that I truly shouldn't have.