It was a Wednesday afternoon. My brother had a friend. He had a neighbor boy I thought was his friend, anyway. He had a crush on me. He was hideous, but nice to me. I let him kiss me and before he left, I begged him to punch me in the mouth three times.

He refused at first, then I begged him so hard, he did it. I cried after he left. But before he left, I thanked him and he never saw me cry.

That night, I went to youth group at church. I physically needed to feel how I felt inside. The nice boy who seemed to take care of hurt kids liked me and he drove me home.

That’s how I found my first love of my life, before I knew what a life was. I was begging to be rescued and didn’t even know it at the time.

Tomorrow I see this human and I’m very different now. I’ll never forget who I was when I met him, however. I can’t forget her. I’ve been rescuing her ever since.

I failed to mention … I was 13 years old. My apologies.