Sex, Love, and Basketball *Books 1 and 2* (Slowly Editing)

30. Stitches

Excuse any typos or grammatical errors.

Mya

I've come to the conclusion that I was destined to be alone. Every time I like someone, they have this hamartia that just ruins everything.

Dani couldn't commit because of reasons she's failed to completely explain. That bullshit about being scared to hurt me will suffice, I guess. It's not like it matters anymore.

And then there's Mya. Not me, the chick from Chipotle. My girlfriend. My soon to be ex girlfriend. I should have known from the moment she showed me her sketch pad that something was off.

Things were great at first. She was sweet and romantic. She was opened about her feelings. She treated me the way I wished Dani had in the past. I was happy with her. But of course, something had to ruin it.

Mya changed. Well, maybe she just pretended she was a certain way to get me to fall for her. She almost had me, but then the insecurities started to show. That didn't really phase me. I knew how it felt to want to be loved by someone the same way they loved you. I knew how it felt to fear that that wasn't possible.

That's why when Mya asked for the passwords to my social media accounts and the passcode to my phone, I gave them to her. Yeah, I was a little offended that she didn't trust me, but I understood. She offered to give me hers too, but I declined the offer. I trusted her.

Then came the constant need to know my whereabouts every second of everyday and my God do I wish I was exaggerating. I couldn't take a fucking nap with out waking up to hella missed calls and text messages from her crazy ass. And then there were the voicemails she left threatening me.

Yes, she actually threatened me. They were empty ones because the second I called her back, she'd be apologizing and begging to come see me. And then she'd make it up to me. To be so bat shit crazy, Mya is amazing in bed and whatever other places she decides to "apologize" to me.

I was pussy whipped for a while, but I can't take it anymore. She crossed the line. I know when I get pissed, my hand likes to aggressively latch itself onto people's faces (mainly Daniella's since she's the only person capable of boiling my blood enough to make me turn to violence), but Mya took it to a whole other level.

Domestic violence in same sex relationships exists, but I don't give a fuck. If you put your hands on me, we're fighting. Period. I'm not about to be a victim to another female.

So that's what happened. My girlfriend and I got into an actual fist fight. There is no reason why we should be fighting each other, but Mya thought she could hit me and I was just going to cry and cower away, but nope.

So she's been calling me and begging me to talk to her so we could fix things, but I'm done. And all this was over a fucking picture on Instagram.

I was wearing a crop top and she said I was trying to show off my body. Well she said I was trying to show off "her" body because apparently she owns me. I was so shocked at her statement that I laughed, so she slapped me because she thought I wasn't taking her seriously. I guess it was Karma for the times I slapped Daniella, but unlike Dani, I don't take too kindly to being hit. Especially when I don't deserve it.

So I tried to let the first hit slide, but after she hit me again I couldn't just not do anything so I defended myself.

We were both pretty beat up from the fight, but my busted lip wasn't even the thing that pissed me off. When I looked at myself, all I saw staring back at me was a girl that would never be happy.