One-Month Megan continued

Ben
Out of all the date stories I tell, this one takes the cake. This one is the cake. I still look back and can't believe this was actually an event in my life. I do feel kind of bad for this one though, so I will start this story by first admitting fault. Ben was Sebastian's best friend. In my defense, Sebastian ended up being a fuckhead, and Ben was a really good guy, and an extremely nice guy. Nice guy's don't lose the race, they genuinely don't know there is a race going on, so they never stand a chance to win.
     I really did like Ben at one point, until I realized he was a STAGE 5 CLINGER. Seriously. If you have a significant other, and they start showing signs of this, leave them immediately  Only terrible things can come from clingers of this magnitude. I'm talking about serious shit, like, they probably have a lock of your hair, just in case you die they can make a clone of you. Or just to hold while  you are at work. Do you ever wake up and feel like someone was watching you? That's because they were. Clingers don't fuck around. Literally, you are their one and only 4 lyfe. 
   Okay back to my favorite story. 
   I mean, it's like REALLY good. 
  So Ben and I dated for 3 weeks and 5 days. The first 2 weeks were bliss. This is about the amount of time the first 5 symptoms of a stage 5 clinger seem wonderful. I mean, they think you are the SHIT. You start to think you ARE the reason the sun rises, I mean why not? Fuck science. The world revolves around you. You fell from heaven, and the impact just made you fucking prettier. He's in touch with his emotions. I mean absurdly in touch. This is because he has two vaginas. Once a stage 5 clinger falls in love, their personal growth comes to a complete stop, because all they spend their brain power is thoughts of you, thoughts of you and them, poems/songs to write about you, portraits they will paint of you, places you will go together, and what to name your 100 kids. Even if it is date 1, you two will be married with children. Totes not crazy talk. 
If love is a battlefield the only ones with guns are the clingers. 
Okay I have spoken my opinion about the cling-bots, back to the epic story of the inevitable broken heart of Ben. 
   After the the two weeks of floating on a cloud of my own awesomeness, I started to realize his insane co-dependent habits. Even at 15 I was an independent woman. Ain't nobody got time for co-dependent bullshit. I grew tired of the constant reminders of how perfect I was. I mean you can only compare my face to an angles SO MANY TIMES. The shitty poems were cute at first, but they just get weird after awhile. I can't hang out every fucking day, I have a life. I was in high school so I had to go out in the world and make immature, and stupid choices. Once I put all the pieces together, and realized what I was dealing with I decided to get out before he snatches a lock of my hair, or worse. 
   I started being distant and cold, trying to make him think less of me so the break up would be easier on him. For the next week I didn't respond to all 400 of his texts. Maybe only 2 of them. He seemed to be getting the picture. The month marker was approaching fast, and he knew of my tendencies already, and he was sure he'd be the one to break me of my one-month ways. Oh boy was he wrong. Poor guy. 
   It was 6th period, when I get a "Meet me by your locker" text. Hmmm, maybe I'll get lucky and he will break up with me! Then he can be the bad guy, and all my girl friends will feel bad for me. Perfect. So I meet him by my locker, and he is in bad shape. His face reeks of forlorn and is just plain pitiful. He looks at me with his puppy brown eyes, with the intensity of a dying solider, trying to get out the last words of informing his wife that he really really likes her. 
I should have seen what was coming. But I was an a really dumb 15 year old girl. Oblivious to the world. 
He leans in for a hug, and since I still have a heart at this point in time, I comply and hug him back. 
He whispers into my ear "I'm sorry I've been so distant, I just don't want to lose you...I love you"
OH MY GOD. OOOHHH LORDY. The fucking L word? really? At 3 weeks? I was flabbergasted.
My commitment issue self freaks the FUCK out. I literally broke out into a cold sweat. 
My heart was racing, with FEAR. 
I broke away from the hug, patted him on the shoulders, turned around and booked it.
I ran all the way to the end of the hall way, out of the doors, and all the way to my 7th period class.
That's right ladies and gents, I literally RAN from love. The worst part is, it felt amazing. My logical self tries to inform me that it way merely the endorphins released from the physical activity immediately following the incident. But I won't listen. Running from love is invigorating. 

and I've been doing it ever since.