Tomatoes and Radio Wires

I broke up with him. I didn't mean to do it so soon. I knew I had to, and the sooner the better. I couldn't continue on with that facade. I love someone else, and he loves me back. It had to be done.

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The one I love broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago. For me. Or not for me. I figure if  someone is willing to break a relationship they have had for over a year for someone else, then there were problems to begin with, and there were. He wasn't having fun, she dragged him to clubs and family gatherings where he didn't feel as if he belongs. He would text me during these times to prevent himself from cracking his head open on the bathroom wall. He didn't match with her anymore.

 

I didn't match with mine anymore. We had to do something.

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Now that our first barriers are taken down, the next is magnified. My parents.

 

I am nearly 18. He is 23.  My parents would not understand. My mother, the one who says the most inapropriate things to me at the most inappropriate times, right after I broke up with my boyfriend and was sitting in tears waiting for my best friend to come cheer me up, told me, "he's way too old if you're thinking that he's the next one."

 

Forget what you know about my love. Pretend to only know what my mother knows.

 

Her daughter just broke up with her boyfriend of almost 2 years. She is crying. Mentioning "the next one" is not the sympathetic, motherly thing to do.

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He climbs in through my bedroom window at night. We hold each other, being silent as possible. He stays far longer than he should, its so dangerous. If we are caught, I will be banned from seeing him and my parents won't trust me anymore. But then I will go to college in the fall, an hour and a half away from home. His mom is moving to Toronto and selling the house within the next year. He does not want to go to Toronto. He will move to Erie to be with me. It can be a secret, my parents won't know until our ages don't matter.