A million little pieces

sat and watched all the other Kids, the ones who had dates, as they drove in and hung around in the Stands or on the Sidelines in their suits and dresses and I watched the Halftime Ceremony and I watched the King and Queen get crowned and I watched everyone clap and cheer for them and I watched everyone be happy. When the Game was over, I didn't have anything to do, and I sure wasn't going to go to the Dance alone, so I drove to this Ghetto nearby to try and score some drugs because I felt like shit for lying to my Mom and because I didn't have any friends and I wanted to make the pain go away. As I was driving around, I saw a whore walking on the street near a House where I used to buy. She would stare at me and wave at me as I passed and I couldn't find any drugs so I finally just pulled over. She walked up to the car and asked if I wanted a Date and I said how much and she told me and it was just a little bit less than the money my Mom had given me so I said yes. I don't know why I did it. I guess I was just lonely and sad and hoping to find some sort of love that would make me feel better. What happened was awkward and stupid and disgusting. The woman smelled and talked to me in this fake dirty voice and it was over in about two seconds. I took her back to the street and I drove around for the next couple hours trying to talk myself out of driving full speed into a tree. When I went home I told my Mom and Dad I had a great time and I thanked them for everything they gave me and I went to my Room. When I knew they were asleep, I stole a bottle from their liquor cabinet and drank it and cried myself to sleep.

I take a deep breath, stare at the ground.

It fucking sucked, and to be honest, I want to kill myself right now even thinking about it. I hate that it happened, and like most everything in my life, it was not what I had hoped for.

I stare at the ground. If there was a hole deep enough, I would climb in. If there were drugs that could obliterate all, I would take them until all was obliterated. I want to kill myself right now even thinking about it.

I look up. There are tears running down Lilly's cheek and she is smiling at me. It is a deep smile, not the type of momentary happiness, but the rare kind that comes when something inside without words is woken from slumber and brought forth to live. Though I know it will disappear from her face, it will stay in her and with her long after it does. It has woken and it will live. I reach up and I gently wipe her tears away. Her skin is soft and the wetness is warm on my hand. As my fingers slide from her chin she takes them into her own hand and she holds them. She stares at me with eyes clean water blue thicker now with lament. Her smile not gone she speaks. That was beautiful. She is holding my hand.

No, it wasn't.

If she let go, I would fall apart.

It was. It was beautiful because it was honest and it was beautiful because it hurt and it was beautiful because you didn't have to tell it to me.

Fall apart.

It makes me feel like shit.

What if I told you I lost my virginity as a whore, instead of with one.