I was 15 years old and head-over-heels for a guy at my school. He was nothing special, to be honest — drinker, smoker, liar, thief. He was generally a really not-well-behaved young man. But, oh god, did I like him! I can't even justify it by saying he was a "bad boy," because he was horrible boy.
Back then, I had serious self-esteem issues and deeply rooted hatred towards myself, so you can probably imagine how overjoyed I was when he told me he liked me and asked if would I be his girlfriend. Obviously, I said yes — I wasn't stupid. I mean, sure, I was stupid, but at the time I thought, Hell yeah.
My friends were telling me to be careful, but what did I do? I didn't listen. In my head I was like, Can't they let me be happy?
Well, I should have listened to them.
When you're young and think you're in love, you want to spend a lot of time with that person and be near them, of course. That's what I expected. Every once in a while, he would take my hand, and I would get butterflies. And every time he took my hand, he would indicate that he wanted to go over to my place. I was more than happy to have him over — I wanted to spend time together.
The first thing he always did when we went to my room was pick up my laptop from the table, sit on my bed, and start using the internet. Specifically, he downloaded a role-playing game to my computer, and he would play it for hours, occasionally asking me to bring him food.
Every time he played the damn game, I would just sit next to him and watch him play. Never had I ever longed for death more than I did then.
He eventually made me play the game, too. When he had to go home, he would tell me to keep playing and collect some items so he could use those the next time he plays. I did what he asked — it still hadn't occurred to me that, hey, this isn't normal. The next day, he would praise me for playing and collecting so many items.
Each passing day, I was getting more and more sick of the whole situation, but I didn't say anything. Even though I still liked him, I started wishing he'd leave so I could use my computer for my own things.
One day, after about a month together, I got a message from him saying he was breaking up with me. I cried — my heart was broken. He didn't even give me an explanation.
It wasn't until I heard from his sister that when he had asked me out, his computer had just broken. Coincidentally, the day his computer started working again, he broke up with me.
That's when I had that "aha!" moment and everything finally made sense. I stopped crying and started laughing my ass off.
Six months later, I actually still had some feelings for him, but they weren't quite as strong anymore — that was until he came around, asking me to be his girlfriend again. The rational part of my brain thought, What, did his computer break down again and I'm the only person kind enough to let him use theirs? But I ignored those thoughts and gave him another chance. Hey, maybe he'd changed a little.
Well, this time, he downloaded another god-knows-what game onto my computer. He would play and invite a bunch of his friends over. My room was small, and there wasn't much space to sit besides on my bed, where they all nicely lined up. They would watch movies while I was sort of cast aside. No room for me, in my own room.
After his friends left, he would continue playing. And I would continue glaring and wishing he'd leave.
The second time he broke up with me, I wasn't even surprised. I was like Dobby waiting for that sock to have my freedom. After that, I decided if he were ever to ask me to be his girlfriend again, I'd take his broken computer and shove it where the sun don't shine.
I wasn't so heartbroken the second time around, and if anything, I learned that you shouldn't date someone before you make sure all of their devices are functioning.