I never liked Nathan. With that black mole above his ruby-colored lips. I used to watch him from afar, follow him around, and track his every move. He loved to go to the library, that’s how I met him. When he’d sit down and start skimming through a graphic novel, I would stay by the bookshelves and stare at him from across the room. Big burgundy eyes and bronze curly eyelashes. Freckles sprinkled across his nose, all of them set in their perfect place. 

…. 

It was fall. You came to visit your family from college for Thanksgiving. You were walking down the desolate street with a suitcase in hand and an ugly leather jacket I had never seen you wear before. You noticed me sitting alone on my porch. I was in a white dress with The Hour of Death opened in my hands. I pretended not to notice your wave. 

…. 

I liked how your eyes would crease up into lines when you laughed, just like mine did. I liked your crooked teeth, no matter how much you made fun of them yourself. I got used to ugly leather jackets and the clichè black motorcycle. I liked the way you looked in turtlenecks and white collared shirts. You said you loved my white dresses, the way my skin would contrast, just like how ours did.  You said that you loved how pretty my hands looked with yours. You said you loved running your hand through my hair no matter how kinky or tangled it was that day.  You said you loved playing with my mother’s tennis bracelets on my wrists. You said my beauty brought you to tears, sometimes. Until you realized you didn’t know how to love anymore. 

…. 

I should’ve known. I shouldn’t have trusted you.  A boy like you deserves to get papercuts in the worst places, hangnails, and stubbed toes. A boy who didn’t mean it. A boy who said I deserved it. A boy who said he wasn’t worthy.  A boy who lied.