I only did it because I didn't want to die a virgin. Besides, it shouldn't have been that hard. I was the guy. Daniela had options. She didn't want to die. She could have said no. She was my 4th girlfriend, but my longest lasting. I did not love her the most. I did not love her at all. The girl I wanted to give my all to was way up the coast, in Seattle. I'd never even seen her in person.

I had just graduated 8th grade and was on Xanga, aimlessly browsing, when I came upon hers. She was by no means extraordinary or majestically beautiful, but she was oh, so unique. I IMmed her. What was the harm? Although, I didn't like how my fingers trembled upon my first "hi." I didn't like it at all.

Her name was Nika and she was just about to finish 5th grade. Yes! Call me a pedophile. I cannot stop that. But keep in mind I had many dreary-eyed nights where I wondered what my intentions were. I knew from the start that I wanted to be friends. Very good friends. I also knew from the start that it'd never be simply that. I knew I would fall. Hard.

It wasn't that she stunned me. She didn't flirt. She was just...Nika. She made me laugh until my sides screamed in pain. The distance between us made me cry. Until my sides screamed in pain. School would end for her in another week, and that was all I had to endure. After that, there were no limits to when we could talk. We both had undiagnosed cases of insomnia. Two weeks after I had first talked to her, I told her I loved her. She hesitated.
pointblankheartbreak has entered text.
"You're only saying that because it's 4:45 AM. You're not thinking straight." My heart raced to her reply, she got it all, all wrong.
"No! This is the clearest I've ever thought. I'm so sure of it, so sure..." Why was it so difficult for her to believe?
"I love you too, Enzo."

Heartbeat?
Gone.

Summer continued like that. She would tell me, in her confused 11-year-old mind, that she felt hopeless and pointless when not talking to me. Miserably aware of the signs, I suggested looking up the symptoms for depression. And that was it. She was depressed. I had changed her. I had taken her vulnerability and stomped all over it and handed it back and made her a different person. She insisted it was just change. Everybody changed. But no, it was too coincidental. I ruined her. Guilt bit at me.


You know when you graduate from elementary school and you tell all your younger friends to kill you if you changed in high school? I wished Nika would kill me already. Our feelings for each other were getting out of hand. I had tried to brutally reject her, make her hate me, so it'd be easier to get over me. All I did was kill her inside. But, no! She should have hated me! I was an asshole and she knows that It hit me that she quite possibly very truly loves me. And I put her in pain. That was the worst feeling in the entire fucking world. I couldn't bear it.

So a month later, I asked her for her phone number because I wanted to hear her voice. She answered some excuse about how it wouldn't work. She was numb. She was confused that I had told her to get the fuck out of my life a month prior then suddenly I wanted her. Everything I did seemed to change her life into a tumultuous rollercoaster of emotions. I began to talk to her again, daily. I tried to be myself, but her harsh words cut me. She didn't say anything even remotely hurtful, and that was the problem. She should've hated me. Instead she was too curt, too numb, and for me it was too harsh. I had to say something.
"Nika. I know we're friends, but if you ever, ever want more, please know I'm here. I love you, Nika." I knew that that wouldn't patch up absolute shit but I got my feelings out there. I wanted her to be happy. But her smiley-face responses never deceived me.


I knew she was trying to be strong the day she told me I go through girlfriends like a girl on her period with tampons. She gave me a big Fuck You. I told her I wished I could.
She didn't laugh.
"You and your fucking mood swings. Pick! You can't tell me to fuck off one day and want me back the next!" Oh, but I could. I apologized immensely. And because I had shattered her childhood ability to stand up for herself, she gave in, and we were frangible friends.

I told her about Daniela. That's what friends do, right? She told me she was happy if I was happy. But the truth of the matter was, I was crushed. She should've been furious! She should've exclaimed that that Daniela Perrino was one hearty bitch she wanted to beat the shit out of!
"Is she pretty, Enzo?"
"She's beautiful."
Actually, Nika, she looks just like you.


I was 15 years old and Nika was 12 when I lost my virginity to Daniela Perrino. She cried, she found her underwear, she kissed me goodbye and she left. It wasn't until a few hours later I stopped staring a hole into the wall and went to take a shower.

The hot water was working perfectly fine. Why was I so cold? I felt blank. I cried. I sobbed. I shook. I only did it because I didn't want to die a virgin. But I wanted to lose it to Nika. I found the razorblade. Here I was, a pathetic bleeding heartbreaker about to die, and somewhere in Seattle, Nika was waiting for me to sign on.