When I was much younger and incredibly naïve, I dated a girl who was truly remarkable. To this day, I still don’t know what she saw in me, but she chose me, and that alone felt like winning the lottery. We were young and reckless, keeping our relationship a secret from our parents. However, we weren’t exactly discreet; all the other teenagers in the neighborhood knew about us. In fact, we were the talk of the town. I loved her deeply, and she brought so much joy to my heart.

Her name was Mabel, and she was everything to me. But then, everything started to change—and it all began when Kevin moved into our neighborhood. Kevin was the ultimate rich kid, the kind of guy who seemed to have everything handed to him. He was older than us, probably 19 or 20, and he had this undeniable charisma that could pull anyone in. At first, I only knew about him because Mabel wouldn’t stop talking about him. Every conversation we had seemed to revolve around Kevin.

It wasn’t long before I noticed her becoming distant. She started giving me attitude, and I could feel her slipping away. I tried to ignore it, but it ate away at me. Two months later, she finally came clean. She admitted that she had cheated on me—with Kevin. She apologized and begged me to forgive her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t just let it go. I needed to know who this Kevin guy was.

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One day, while sitting on her porch, she pointed him out to me. He was walking down the street, looking every bit like the perfect young gentleman—handsome, well-built, and exuding confidence. Then, she showed me a picture of him on her phone. I couldn’t even be mad at Mabel anymore; I understood her. Kevin was the kind of guy everyone wanted to be or be with. How could I compete with that?

But I wasn’t ready to let it go either. My anger shifted to Kevin. I blamed him for everything—he must’ve known how irresistible he was, and I believed he had used that to manipulate Mabel into falling for him. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. So, in my immature rage, I told my boys about him. They were loyal and didn’t ask too many questions; they were ready to stand by me and avenge my broken heart.

We planned it out, cornering Kevin one day when he was alone. They beat him up, delivering my message: stay away from Mabel. I didn’t go with them because I thought keeping my distance would protect me from trouble. But that decision was my downfall.

Our mistake was warning him to stay away from Mabel, which only made things worse. Kevin’s father found out about the attack and went straight to Mabel to ask who her boyfriend was. She didn’t hesitate to give me up. That’s how I ended up at the police station, scared out of my mind.

The officers didn’t hold back. They threatened to let Kevin beat me up as payback if I didn’t cooperate. Panicked, I gave up the names of everyone who was involved. The next thing I knew, we were all at the station, sitting in the holding area and furious with one another. We threw accusations back and forth, but the blame always circled back to me. I couldn’t escape it; I had started the whole thing.

When we were finally released, I thought it couldn’t get any worse. But Mabel showed up, and instead of comforting me, she unleashed her anger. She insulted me, called me immature, and broke up with me on the spot. The heartbreak was brutal, but looking back, I can’t even blame her.

Now that I think about those days, I realize how foolish I was. My immature jealousy and poor decisions taught me a lot. In hindsight, I’m even grateful the police got involved; their intervention taught me a lesson I sorely needed. I often wonder where Kevin is now. If he ever thinks about that day, I hope he knows that I’m sorry. I don’t blame him for what happened, and I can’t hold it against him for being the kind of guy girls gravitate toward. It wasn’t his fault, and I hope he’s doing well.