Dear Deedee, My life sucks!!!

Dear Deedee,

My life sucks a lot. I hate making mistakes. I don’t know why but I really do.  Making mistakes make me feel like a weakling…especially when it comes to falling for the wrong person. My intuition has been really shitty of late and maybe it’s because I’ve been refusing to pay attention to it the way I should.

Have you ever felt that you’ve met the right person? The person that understands all your quirks, your weirdness and stuff? Then you discover it was a game…a bet made by some really crappy guys at your school? A bet to see if you’d fall. I guess they just wanted to make fun of me like the guys in my high school did. I was a Grade A nerd in school and I’ve always been. Also a little bit of a perfectionist but that doesn’t matter.Gray was perfect. He was the first guy who saw beyond my nerdy ways, looked beyond my size (I’m a size 12) and didn’t care.  At least I thought he did. I’d found it a little bit suspicious when he came around in my philosophy class and sat beside me. The handsomest of them all, it felt a bit weird that he’d come so close. He had his gang of cool guys like him…not football jocks…baseball. He was popular, neat, and cute. He made me laugh a lot, made me smile, and made me feel that I was worthy of being liked or at least loved by someone cool. He took me out on walks and dates that felt magical. I didn’t know when I began to imagine a future with him- a future beyond the walls of our university. But I should have known how he claimed he felt about me was too good to be true. I should have been more cautious about how suddenly he came into my life like a whirlwind of awesomeness.

Now, I hate myself. I hate having made such a mistake and been so stupid. I’m disgusted at how I fell for him because I thought he was perfect. I guess making straight A’s isn’t something a whole lot of people in my class are happy about.

Deedee, Gray has a girlfriend…and many other friends whom he treats like he treated me…a queen. But all he wants, all he’s ever wanted is sex. He doesn’t know love…he has no idea how it feels.

It turns out Gray and his friends have a club…”Lay Em All’ or Lea… Lea is for guys who are popular, handsome, and ready to get laid. Apparently, they keep a scorecard and Gray has the highest number of girls so he’s in charge. The bet they had was to see if he could have sex with the class mascot, namely me. Well, he almost succeeded but I guess I didn’t trust him as much as I thought I did. When I told him several times that I wasn’t ready, he said he understood and that I could take my time.

Then he tried to rape me in the dorm. Thank God for the karate classes you made me take, Deedee. It paid off that day. He left whimpering and limping. I felt bad that I had injured him but I had to protect myself.  You always said I shouldn’t have sex until I was ready. And, that’s one thing I’ve held on to, Deedee.

He told the whole class I was a tramp and distributed photoshopped pictures of me with different guys in different sex positions and different places on social media. I had no idea he could be so petty and vengeful. I decided to let him be, despite the catcalls and boos that I’ve had to listen to for the past month. I hear “slut”, “fatso”, “bitch”, “for sale”, and demeaning words like that but I’m no longer moved.

I made a mistake Deedee. A big one that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. I’ve cried myself to sleep and missed classes just because I couldn’t face Gray and all those other people who don’t know or even want to know me.

Now, I’m here feeling utterly miserable and you’re not here. I miss you sis.  I pen these letters to you because even though I can’t see you. But I feel you.

I can’t forgive myself for being dumb, for getting my heart broken, and for believing that there was someone out there who can see beyond what I look like and love me for me. I guess I’m wrong. I guess I still have on those rose-colored glasses that Dad talks about. But, maybe there’s still a hidden romantic somewhere inside of me…I have a little bit of hope.

After all, I’m just 21.

With love,

Kierra.

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