Thirty Days of Fire: Day 29-The Night Of Your 21st Birthday (If Not Yet 21, The Last Birthday You Had)


Ah, the night of the popping of the liquor cherry!

That didn’t happen for me, dearest one. Not at all. Not even a beer, bruh.

The night of my 21st birthday? I was with my boyfriend, Dominic. Had been with him about 2 years at this point. His mother was on disability, and still sleeping with her ex-husband, his father, whom beat her. She, Pam, Dominic’s mother, bought me Chinese food and let me hang out at her house. Which I did often. I had a key to it, unbeknownst to him and her. I mean, I was still staying with my mom, and I thought I would just be there when I didn’t want to be home. Long story…

But this night, I was content. I was with him. I thought that was enough. We had time together. We were together eating yummy Chinese and being in love. I think back on that night now, that relationship then, and can’t help but be happy it was over. I was in love with someone that had no idea what that meant, what it could mean. He pushed it, questioned it, and when I was at the point where I could give no more of myself, I left.

And he wanted me back.

You can guess what happened next.

(Spoiler:  I didn’t go back. I wouldn’t change.)

I don’t wish the boy dead, but I would probably go to his funeral to make sure that he was.







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