In sixth grade, I thought love was the quiet boy that let me borrow his new book for independent reading time. We never spoke to each other in person but online, we were in love. Because love was sending endless emails to each other that said “Rawr means I love you in dinosaur.”
In seventh grade, I thought love was the boy who took my first kiss. He had my heart, but I wasn’t the only one who had his. I told him I loved him. Because love was believing one lie after the next.
In eighth grade, I thought love was the tall, sweet boy that told me I was cute. We never met, but for a couple weeks, it was love. Because love was constant video chatting and facebook messaging.
In 9th grade, I thought love was the confident boy who talked to me everyday during the summer. As winter came along, the flowers died just like his feelings for me. He broke my heart, but I still loved him. Because love was crying my eyes out at 4 a.m. and wondering if he still missed me.
Today, I think love is the older boy who found me when my heart was in pieces. It’s been two months since I’ve seen him, but our love grows stronger everyday. Because love is missing someone until it hurts.