Ivan

I first met Ivan when I was 16. He was making out with WY, another guy who I believe totally fucked his own life up. He had a reputation for being somewhat of an asshole, and from the first moment he talked to me, I could've have agreed more.

WY asked me for a goodbye kiss, and I obliged. He stuck his tongue inside me and ravaged my mouth. I went along; I didn't really know what constituted a great kiss then. Ivan, having spent the entire night talking to WY (fishing for a ONS apparently) was opposite us and seemed jealous ("Where's mine?").

He took my phone and left himself a missed call. I was admittedly turned on by this confidence, but I wasn't gonna give him that satisfaction. So when he refused to give me his name, I just saved his name under "Lanci" (arrogant, in canto) for future references, promptly walking away. 

Eventually we did go out quite a few times. We went to watch movies, to cybercafes for afternoons of DotA, to talk. He was still an asshole, I guess, but sometimes his softer side shone through. I could tell he was trying to be nice. Once he slept over at my place. We watched Grey's Anatomy till I fell asleep on his chest. His dick was huge (he showed me, that fucking cocky bastard). We didn't have sex. 

He would sometimes lash out at me. He insisted I was just playing with him. That I was just getting him to lower his guard so he would slip. He threatened that if I repeated any of the "mushy sensitive" stuff he said to me in confidence he would "fucking beat me up".When asked why he told me I was too good for him. He wasn't particularly handsome. He didn't have a hot body. He wasn't even nice to me at the start.  Once he called me a "fucking cheebye loser" and ended up spending the entire night convincing me I wasn't. So... why?

I guess I liked him then. He kept telling me to not fall in love with him. But it was pretty much the other way around, him being really attached to me. He was especially protective of me, and when people spoke ill of him I spoke up and stood his ground.. so I think I was pretty protective of him too. I think I had feelings for him. I was sure he had them for me, though.

Anyway, eventually I got sick of all his bullshit and mindgames. I think I hurt him real bad when I told him I had enough; that he wasn't worth it anymore. I told him I was sorry for saying that. I think he cried. I think that was the moment I became a cold-hearted bitch. 

We somehow drifted apart after then. And many guys later, we're still friends. It's been 5 years now and we've both grown. He's changed dramatically though. He's nice now. Everyone likes him. He's nice to everyone. Me included.

I don't know why I typed this. I was reminiscing, I guess, and I thought of him. He wasn't a fucking great deal of my life, but I miss him. And somewhere deep down, I guess I feel like I lost him. The him that was mine, anyway. 

It's selfish of me, but I wish he was still a well-hated jerk who was only nice to me (at times). I look at him and it brings me back to all the feelings I've long forgotten. I want to feel those emotions all over again. 

But he has changed. And so have I. For the better or for worst, it makes me want to cry.