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    I'm Amanda, a 21 year old Florida girl. I'm a student at the University of North Florida, where I'm majoring in Journalism. I love music, the beach and driving. My friends are my family, and I love hanging out at the movies, the hookah bar or a rock show. I want to pick up as many useless talents as possible and to travel the world taking pictures and having good times with my best friends. For more information about me, view my About page.
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The other man in my life.

So I’ve done a lot of talking, thus far, about the Boychik and how important he is to me. I’ve been seriously neglecting another really important person in my life, Dante.

See, Dante and I broke up not even two weeks ago. I don’t really know how to deal with that. God knows I have got to stop dating friends. You’d think I’d have learned the first time, but… I don’t know why I thought this time would be different. I wasn’t too involved, so I figured, if it didn’t work, we could just be friends again.

I had no way of knowing or understanding, at the time, how sincerely involved Dante was.

Two months ago, Dante jumped me in a parking lot. Rather… well, let me back up. The Boychik was out of town, you see, and I go kidnap Dante some while the Boychik is gone, because those two are practically married, and without the Boychik around Dante doesn’t get out as much. So I went to see him that night. We went to Sonic and spent a couple hours talking, and we stopped at the gas station on the way back so he could have a cigarette. We talked about a lot of things that night, including our respective exes and my relationship with the Boychik, which has, apparently, always concerned Dante, because once upon a time I had a terrible crush on the Boychik. I don’t anymore, but a couple years ago it was really bad.

So we talked, and as we got out of my car in the gas station parking lot, he came around the side of the car and, with a quick “fuck it,” kissed me. I was shocked and speechless… Apparently he’d had these really intense feelings for me for two years, since the day the Boychik introduced us. I remember asking him that night if this was his vague, roundabout way of asking me out, and he just gave me some vague yes-ish answer. I knew, then, what kind of issues I’d be facing. I laid everything out for him, or I tried to/thought I did.

I explained that my family would not be okay with this. You see… I am white. Dante is not. He is black, and my family is stupidly, hostilely, ridiculously racist. We would have to hide our relationship. I told him I didn’t want to do that, because it wasn’t fair to him. I kept trying to tell myself that one day, when I developed those intense feelings he had, I might be able to tell them and be okay. But… well, that ties into my other big issue.

I knew I didn’t feel the same way he did. I knew that I loved him dearly as one of my greatest friends, and I knew that I couldn’t picture my life without him. I also know that sometimes, for some people, love comes slowly. My only other real experience with love was with my first boyfriend, and… well, let’s just say I was open to something new, and I thought I could develop for Dante the same feelings he had for me.

The next month and a half were really pretty good. Dante was a great boyfriend. In a short period of time, I grew a lot. He seemed so happy, too, and… I knew this relationship was a good thing for both of us. There was a lot of potential for both of us to grow because of it. And the Boychik and Dante’s mom pointed that out sometimes–that I was so good for Dante.

Still… I started to realize, slowly, painfully, that it wasn’t going to work. I began to understand, over time, my way of falling in love and what I’m looking for in a relationship. I knew I wasn’t going to find that with Dante. Although I could see a future with him, I knew it was a future in which I would never be totally happy, and… if I’m not going to be totally happy, it’s not worth it. I knew I would never feel that giddy, giggly, stupid, swoony kind of love I thrive on, and, worse, I knew that I was never going to be able to share our relationship with my family. I became envious of my sister, who always has her boyfriend around the house. I want to be in a relationship my immediate family knows about and welcomes. That was never going to happen with Dante, and in conjunction with my lack of full-blown, hell-if-I-care-what-you-say passion… I had to end it.

Since then… well, things initially were not as bad as I thought they would be. Shortly after I left his house, though, things went to hell, and… we didn’t talk for a couple days. The Boychik spent the next night with him and worked some kind of magic, and by Sunday we were at least outwardly okay. We’re carrying on friendly conversations again, which is nice, but… well, I hope, one day, we get back to a point where we can really talk. I miss him. I hate that I hurt him. But I know it was the right thing to do, for me. I can’t explain how; I just know, in my heart, that I made the right decision. It sure as hell didn’t feel like it at the time, but I’m almost relieved now. More than anything, I feel better because I don’t have to lie to my family anymore.

So… that’s Dante. I won’t mention him as often as the Boychik… Even beyond the fact that the Boychik and I see each other constantly, things with Dante just aren’t as solid as they used to be. I’m not as comfortable around Dante anymore… I feel like I have to walk on egg shells around him lately. And, I mean… the Boychik and I are almost the same person. We are very close. That doesn’t mean I love him any less. I just had to put that out there.


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