Boyfriend

"You lived your life like nothing else mattered
And now you're torn, torn to tattered"

-Carbon Leaf

Dear Boyfriend,

I just found out about you today. I don't think my mother wanted me to know. When I asked her about you—I asked her when she had gotten her first and when I could expect you—she got very short with me. She started out nice, telling me that her first was a kid named Jimmy who had dirty blonde hair and his breath smelled like bubble gum and he kissed her on the lips on their second date. She told me how it was cold and that Jimmy's lips were a little wet and cold too but it was still nice. It started out fine and innocent, like I was asking her how she made pork chops but when I asked her if I should be expecting you anytime soon, she snapped at me, told me that wasn't why she told me about Jimmy, asked me why I cared about you all of a sudden. I said it was because Lindsay's friend Gerard kissed her in the hallway this afternoon and when I asked her about it, Lindsay said Gerard was her boyfriend now. Mom said that it might be fine with Lindsay's parents that Lindsay have a boyfriend at the "tender age" of eleven, but it wasn't all right with my parents.

But I wasn't asking if it was all right with her.

Love,

Girl

Dear Boyfriend,

A guy stopped by a few weeks ago. I knew he wasn't you but I thought he might be a friend of yours, so I let him in. He was nice at first. He wished me a happy 17th birthday, he gave me a card and some daisies that were obviously handpicked, probably from someone's yard. He sat with me and my family while we ate cake but he didn't say too much. I didn't like that. Still, I thought he was just nervous.

After dinner, he took me out of the house, away from the others, and we went to the movies, just the two of us. He said it was his birthday present to me. It was fun but I kind of wondered what I was supposed to do with this guy I barely knew. I kind of wished for my mother's advice then.

He came by again the next week and we went to the mall. He didn't even offer to carry my bags and he answered his cell phone four times while we were there. I didn't like that either. Still, he held his hand out to me in the parking lot and I took it. When I took his hand, it was like the trepidation of being alone with a boy floated away. I wasn't a little girl experimenting—I felt like a woman. Was that his purpose? Is that why you sent him?

If that's not it, I guess I won't know. He just called to say that he started talking to his ex-girlfriend Lora again. He thinks he might love her and he wants to try with her, so good bye. I guess I don't care.

Love,

Girl

Dear Boyfriend,

First semester at college! I have friends, too! Nice ones, people who talk to me every time they see me, who say hi every day.

I met someone, too. A few weeks into classes, this guy started hanging out a lot more. I was still a little up in the air with my new situation, living away and all that, but he seems really nice. I'm not sure if he's you or not. Is he you? Are you him? We've hung out a lot, we've watched a couple of movies together, first with his friends and my friends, then just with my friends, then just the two of us. We kissed two nights ago. His lips weren't cold at all. They were warm and dry. It wasn't a big kiss, just a sort of "getting to know you" kiss, I think. He seems shy. We ate lunch together the next day. He didn't say much but we sat next to each other and he smiled and patted my hand. I haven't seen him yet today. He said he had lots of homework. My cell phone is sitting next to me on my desk.

Come to think of it, I really don't think this guy is actually you. So who the hell is he?

Love,

Girl

Dear Boyfriend,

Another boy came to me six months and a week ago today and I really thought he was you. He held me first, he kissed me first, and he hugged me and didn't let go. He whispered "I love you." He made me believe him.

It was wonderful. When he kissed me, it was Heaven on Earth. He pressed his lips against mine so earnestly, he pushed my head back. I felt a passion, I took it for a burning love. And it made me swoon.

We ate lunch and dinner together each day. We met after class. We would do our homework then come and be with each other, watch TV, talk about our lives before college, our dreams for after. We'd make fun of the stupid people we saw who like in high school still tried to make our lives miserable. We talked about what made us sad. His parents made him sad, they were mean and controlling, they tried to rule his life even now that he lived away. Sometimes when we talked like this, I'd cry. I wasn't used to sharing personal stuff like that with anyone but you. Once or twice, he cried too. Only the times when I felt like I was losing him. If I told him I wondered if he loved me, he cried. I took the tears to mean that he loved me more than he could say. And I didn't want to make him cry.

Then we started to eat every meal together. If there was a meal one of us didn't have time to eat, neither of us ate. We walked each other to class, right up to the door, We talked glumly, talked quietly, held hands, clutched like the other was an endangered species. We talked about everyone else and everyone else became dumb. Everything everyone did was irritating. My friends stopped talking to me; they didn't want to see me with him. He cried more. I cried every day. I cried because I thought my parents were being mean and controlling, even while I was all the way at school. I thought that he didn't love me. He'd cry when I'd tell him that. He'd hold onto me and our tears would get intermingled and he'd whisper that he did love me, he always would. His arms were all that I had. I would sometimes just be doing something normal, just watching TV or studying or something, and I'd suddenly get very scared, like I knew the bottom was dropping out of something. I'd beg him to hold me, and he would. He'd rock back and forth with me swaddled in his arms, softly saying "It's OK, it's OK."

I became worried and frayed because as I said, I thought he was you. I thought I'd finally found you. At first, I thought it was wonderful, he made me happier than I've ever been, but then as it changed and I became so scared, I couldn't imagine living scared like this forever, living believing that everyone but one person hated me or was too stupid to be loved. Maybe that's why I cried more. I didn't know what to do. I felt so much like I needed him. If I didn't have him, who and what would I have to come back to in my life?

I called my mother a week ago last night. I told her everything about him. She was very quiet the whole time I spoke, didn't interrupt once to talk about herself or how this was affecting her, which is pretty rare. Finally, I heard her take a breath.

"Here's the deal," she said. "Do what makes you feel all right."

I hung up with her, turned the phone off, cried for ten minutes, then turned the phone back on and called him. I hung up three minutes later and cried for four hours. Then I dried my eyes and started writing to you. And now I don't know what to do.

Love,

Girl

Dear Boyfriend,

I've thought a lot about you since my last letter. All I wanted in life was you, really. I knew I was smart. Getting good grades and doing well at things made me happy, but it all felt like prep work for when you come along. I wanted just the right number of ribbons and certificates to show you when you finally show up. That last boy you sent though, wow. What a dirty trick.

But maybe that was on purpose too. He certainly did show me one thing. He presented me with the option of a life the purpose of which is a boy, a man. You let me experience it and that was what I thought it would be like with you. I hope for your sake that it's not.

My point is this; if you want me as much as I want you, if you will love me as much as I know I'll love you, if you'll make me feel as beautiful, wonderful, special, and smart as I know you will be…

…write back to me.

Sincerely,

Girl