About a year and a half ago, I took a chance and went on a date with this guy. Keep this main point in mind: I didn't even let him touch me. Now, moving on.
Tell me this, why would the entire student body think that I let him do me in the movie theater? Oh that's quite simple; he wanted rumors about his sex life. It seemed that all the rumors revolving around me spread the quickest, lasted the longest, and got worse with every whisper. In about two weeks, I was the center of everybody's attention. For all the wrong reasons.
So many guys came up and asked me for sex. Too many to count. And I was disgusted. People these days are obnoxious, I have come to realize. Do people really have nothing better to do than talk about my sex life? Apparently not.
From that day on, I had a big fat red word stamped on my forehead: EASY.
Though none of it was true, I went on wit my life ignoring it. The right thing to do? I'm not so sure. I was getting more attention than I wanted, and I began going out with all of these guys. None of which I had sexual relations with. Yet the rumors got nastier and continued on with their tormenting. And the funny thing is: I still haven't had sex with anyone.
Ironic, right? Every guy was so eager to make up our escapades, yet no guy actually made an effort. And still, the term "easy" follows me around like a lost puppy with a blind owner.
Then I attempted suicide, and the rumors escalated. Not about my romantic life, but about me, the person. And now, no guy wants to bring any rumors to the surface.
Let's face it, no guy wants to be thought of with a freak like me.