He sang to me.
In front of all those people,
He sang to me as he held my hand and my face.
I had never experienced romance before,
So I surrendered to his advances.
"Why me?" I asked.
I was never special to anyone--
Not in that way, anyway.
But then he told me I was pretty.
And after that, my prior ineligibilities meant nothing.
We did things. . .
But then, he pulled away.
I couldn't figure out why.
Surely, it was just a misunderstanding:
I was still pretty.
And then we sat.
We sat and we discussed his "epiphany:"
He wasn't accustomed to softer guys,
Such as myself.
I was too girly.
I was too girly for him
And his long hair and long nails.
I was also too girly for him
And his three oblivious girlfriends.
(He thought he told me that part.)
I was happy to let our relationship dissolve.
Pouring water on Alka-Seltzer,
Just bubbling away. . .
Then he got expelled.
Violence isn't received well by universities.
Deception isn't received well by me.
So when he texted me pictures of his completed tattoo,
The one I had designed for him,
I was cold and indifferent
To the first boy to ever tell me that I was pretty.