you're the brightest little firefly in my jar.

My mother and I were at Exxon today getting gas, which cost an ungodly amount of money, I'm sure. I wasn't worried about the gas, though. We'd just come from Walgreen's to pick up some prescriptions and a box of hair dye and other things. I was reading the hair dye box (Light Golden Brown, for you curious people; it's my natural color), when I looked up for a minute and a boy working in the garage caught my attention.

He's not a boy anymore. When I met him he was sixteen and I was fourteen and he had the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen. He was also the unhappiest person I'd ever known. Misery loves company, I suppose. Today when I saw him I felt a twinge of remorse and loneliness. His hair dark brown hair that he keeps in a ponytail is longer than mine now, and he smiles more. I haven't actually talked to him since March.

He and I go way back. At the end of my freshman and his junior year in high school, we flirted with the idea of a relationship, but I suppose at fourteen a serious relationship is completely out of the question. We had a falling out of sorts. Some girl was in love with him and she was gonna kick my ass or some other nonsense, so he stopped talking to us both in order to keep either of us from getting hurt, physically or otherwise. Later that year, in November, after I'd gotten myself a new boyfriend, he started talking to me again. He apologized, and then chased me for a year until I finally gave in and started dating him.

Well, what can I say? I fell in love. I was sixteen and miserable and clung to anyone who gave me any attention at all. He wasn't perfect. He was never perfect. In fact, he was an idiot for the most part. But oh, did he love me. I don't know if any guy has ever loved me that much. We broke up two years ago. It's hard to believe that it's been two years. He was so unhappy, but from what his friends told me, he'd been ten times worse before I'd come along.

He was persistent. He never gave up, that boy. After I broke up with him, we fought and we stopped talking for months, but it always came back to the two of us in the end. He kept on chasing me, but I couldn't do it. Not again. I know. . .I know he loved me. He probably still loves me. And I could probably be with him for a long time except that I know he loves smoking pot. Not just as a party thing; he does it everyday, multiple times a day. I can't put myself through it again. I can't watch him destroy himself.

I think I ruin them. Guys date me and they self destruct. Or maybe I just attract self-destructive men in general. Hell if I know. But I know I can break a heart. I could never get him to get a job. While we were together, he had one job. He worked at the golf course in Southern Trace, cleaning up rich people's trash and blowing the leaves out of the pool. I pushed him and pushed him to get a job, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't go to school, he wouldn't do anything. Eventually I gave up and left.

He got a job at a local bakery. I think he worked there for about a year. It was a nice, easy job, but he didn't make any money. I always wanted him to work with cars. I told him it would be a good job and a good salary, and I knew he would be good at it because he was always tooling around with some car part or another. He's a perfectionist. That's one thing I adored about him: He always got the job done perfectly.

So when I saw him working at the garage today, I smiled because I knew I'd been right. He always told me he'd never amount to anything. He had daddy issues, of course. In fact, I've known him almost five years and I've never, ever met his dad. There's some serious shit there, but I digress. His father always told him he wasn't worth anything and I hated his father for it. I couldn't help but fall in love with him. He had this big, beautiful smile, long beautiful hair that I practiced braiding on all the time, and is just a huge teddy bear. And I mean huge. He's 6'5"ish and built like a linebacker. He's a manly man, but with girly qualities. His hands are calloused from playing his guitar, but soft and gentle. He likes to cook, but only on his grill. And he's incredibly loyal. Unless someone does something absolutely horrible to him, he's a lifelong friend.

We've grown apart in the last few months. I guess he got busy with his job and I've started this new life thing. But I miss him so much sometimes.