Changes

I met him when I was young and impressionable. I was fifteen and he had just turned seventeen. I was a sophomore in high school; he was a senior. I was a glasses-wearing, band geek. A bookworm who spent her days off, buried under piles of books at the local library. I was just your every day, classic, unimpressive girl next door. He was the star baseball pitcher. A real class-A jock. The guy that every girl had a crush on. That was, everyone except me. I paid little to no attention to any school sports, aside from which team the band was playing for. So you can imagine I paid no attention to the jocks, until that fateful day. It was about a month before prom when he came up to me at my locker and asked if I wanted to go to the prom with him. I originally had no intention of attending prom, so I was caught off-guard and had little time to think before responding. I just looked up into his light gray eyes and instantly said yes, regardless of how blindsided I felt.

When he arrived to pick me up, he was such a gentleman and extremely charming. He arrived promptly at eight, a bouquet of sunflowers in his arms and a matching corsage and boutonniere set. My parents instantly fell under his spell, just as I had. My mother took an abundance of the usual "before prom" pictures. My father gave him a stern warning about curfews and boundaries until our limo arrived. He and I danced all night, we laughed and he made me feel like I was the most beautiful girl in the gym even though my hair and make-up wasn't professionally styled, and even though my dress wasn't ornate. I was wearing a simple, navy blue dress with a simple sweetheart neckline. The night felt simply felt magical. I was never big on daydreaming, but I imagine my prom night was how every girl dreamt their night would be.

Later that night, I realized that I actually did like him and shortly after prom, we began dating. While we were dating, he spoiled me. He always brought some type of gift with him when he would come to pick me up for our dates. He constantly called me beautiful, constantly told me he loved me and that he wanted to be with me forever. Through hell or high water, he wanted me and only me. We talked about getting married and starting a family together right after graduation. I believed everything that he told me. I couldn't wait to start our lives together.

My feet were not planted entirely on the ground, my mind and my thoughts were always in the clouds whenever I was around him. I believed that he wanted only me. I thought he was my soulmate. I truly believed that I was in love with him and that he loved me. He was all my mind could think about when we were apart. He gave me butterflies whenever he touched me. He gave me an electric shock every time we kissed. I felt sparks fly, and I thought when you felt sparks fly, maybe, just maybe, it meant that you were in love. I was blinded by the fake feelings of love. Blocking out all the negative things he would say in an effort to "help me improve myself." I wasn't paying attention to the truth. I wasn't paying attention to how uncomfortable his "improvement" suggestions made me feel. I ignored that voice inside of me telling me what he was saying was wrong. I truly believed that we were in love. Oh boy, how wrong I was.