Who Owns Me?

The ability to be friends with a guy

depends on the status of my relationship

and whether they are capable

of getting into my pants

without the possibility of trespassing

on another guy’s property,

also known as my body.

“How old are you?” to make sure I am legal,

“Are you single?” if I say no, the conversation ends there,

“Are you a virgin?” to see if I have experience,

and then finally

“What’s your name?” the question that should be asked first,

but rarely is

because why does it matter

in a society where relationships only last a week

or results in a one night stand

just when you thought you found the one.

The one that you can bring home to your family

as you observe the guy and your father

firmly shake hands as an agreement

that my father will give this guy a piece of me

for now,

but only temporarily

until he can prove himself,

because there may be others

that will come after him

who will experience the same process

since he may leave me

like the ones before him.

They feared commitment

or they just wanted another name

that they could add to the list

that they mentally have going.

But I want to memorize

the shape of his face

or the way the muscles move

as his mouth turns into a smile

at the corners of his mouth.

I want to memorize

the way his laugh dances

in my mind

when he finds me amusing,

or to be able to feel this hurricane

that twists in my stomach

when I see him.

No not butterflies.

A hurricane.

A hurricane that makes you sick

to your stomach with joy at the thought

of seeing him

but also at the thought

of not seeing him again.

But this guy,

who I wish to be nothing more

than my friend,

he will

get up and leave

because it’s either a relationship

or nothing.

There is no such thing

as being friends

with a guy

in high school,

or at least

not for very long

without peers poking fun

about how “cute” we would be together.

A friendship is too little

while a relationship is too much

and the space in between

is encouraged for males,

but frowned upon for females.

So my interaction with guys

is either placed on one end of the spectrum

where we’re only acquaintances

or the other

where we’re in a relationship.

I’ll say this again

in case you didn’t hear the first time:

The ability to be friends with a guy

depends on the status of my relationship

instead of it depending on my personality

because at this rate,

we’ll never get that far

into the conversation

for him to find out

what I’m like.

I’ll watch him walk away

since I have failed

once again

to prove that I am something

worth staying for

even if we are

just friends,

but he will never see that

because I am someone else’s property:

My own.