Love comes in different types of packages. Some are big, some are small, and it exists in all of us, even me. I was seventeen at the time, and in my last year of high school, and I felt lonely depressed and deprived of life. I was so used to living life like I was not alive, and it started to become quite clear to me, that I was living in some false reality.

I would fantasize about the day when my prince charming would sweep me off my feet, and the pain that I had earlier endured in my life would slowly, but consistently disappear. I was writing in my journal one night, when my mother appeared out of nowhere and took my form of escape from my hands. The way she started to read aloud I found ignorant and inconsiderate, but I was proud of what I wrote so I let her go on.

“ I want more than anything a boy who will take me on a dates to the park at midnight, who’ll push me on the swings, chase me down the slide, and race me rolling down the hills. Who’ll bring hot cocoa and we’ll gaze at the stars until we can’t keep our eyes open any longer, and when it gets cold, we’ll try to squeeze both of us into his one sweatshirt. Who will say ‘good morning sunshine’ as we wake up to the sunrise in the grass, and we’ll try to hush our giggles as we race home through the sleeping neighborhood and try to sneak back in before my mother and father wake up. Then later we’ll meet at Starbucks and share a venti sized ice caramel macchiato with extra, extra, extra, caramel, and stick straws up our noses and act like we’re a walrus from the zoo. When I get frustrated because I can’t ever win a game of rock paper scissors, he’ll forfeit to me and kiss me until my stubborn frown has no choice but to smile. We’ll cuddle up on the couch and he’ll call me his pumpkin seed, and we’ll watch a movie or two, or three… anything for more time together. Who will tell me that I couldn’t be more perfect for him, who will give me some reason for wanting more from my life, who will give me the reason to believe that all the heartbreak I’ve encountered was worth it, though it will never happen again. A boy who will look me in the eye and tell me not to be afraid of getting old, or dying, because I’ll always have him, and we’ll grow old together, overcoming each obstacle as one being, but coming out more unified each time. A boy who makes me want to be better, to do better, to live lusher, to smile wider, to try harder, to trust easier, to have more faith, and to love like it’s all I’ve got, because in the end, it is. “, she read.

She looked at me like I was completely insane after a long pause, and then suddenly burst out laughing. See, my mother doesn’t believe in love, and she doesn’t believe in me. Love and myself are the things she happens to hate most, and I don’t understand why, nor do I care, because I know someone out there is waiting for me. That someone won’t laugh at my writing, or tell me I’m stupid, or dumb, because I want what any normal girl my age wants. Yet, most of all this person will love me, with a passion burning to the intensity of the sun.

I can’t remember much of that day after that, but from what I do remember, I don’t really wish I did. I sat on my bed leaning on the frame, and in walked my mother. She has this furious type of look on her face, and I knew somehow her frustration would be taken out on me. I continued drawing in my journal, and by mistake, shot a puzzled glance in my mother’s direction. She started screaming and belittling me, telling me how worthless I was, and how I wasn’t a planned baby. She took my journal, and stormed off, me running after her. The worst had come that evening. The only thing keeping me in one piece, and keeping me clam, she threw into the fireplace. I automatically started crying, and ran into my room. I was thankful I tore my page out I just wrote, but that did not change that I sobbed myself to sleep at night.

I woke up the next morning with a toe-curling migraine. The weekend was over, and I was stuck going back to what I thought as of a prison. I got ready for school, put on my glasses, and silently walked down the steps to the kitchen. To my surprise, my father was finally home from his business trip, and somehow, someway that put a smile on my face. I don’t know whether it was because I felt some sort of safety now, or whether it was because I knew my mother would be under control, but either way I was happy.

After quickly devouring a pop tar, I briskly walked to the bus stop and stood in my usual spot, a little past the corner. None of the other teenagers talked to me, but I was alright with that because when they did, it was towards their benefit. I considered all people to be flesh eating parasites, well at least the majority of them. I mean, when people are usually upset, it’s because of the actions of others, and the result to that would be that their eaten away, whether it being the inside or out.

The bus quickly came to a loud abrupt stop, which caused me to lose my train of thought. I boarded the bus and sat towards the front, and started to shift my hands around in my lap. It didn’t take long to get to school, and off I departed. I walked quickly to my locker, got my stuff, and scurried to homeroom. I sat in the corner like in all my classes, but today I felt somehow was going to be completely out of the ordinary.

It wasn’t until lunch until my prediction was correct. I sat in the back of the lunch room by myself at a long table, that sat twelve. I was in mid bite of my peanut butter sandwich when someone sat down across from me. I put down my food on a napkin, and looked puzzled at the familiar boy sitting there. This was when all embarrassment took place. One of the higher rank boys in my school was right in front of me, and all I could do was have my jaw hang open. He smiled and introduced himself as Daniel Jackson, and asked me my name.

“ I go by Isabella Nolesworth, and if you think this is some type of cruel joke by sitting with me, it doesn’t both me in the least. I don’t carte for social contact, because it is quite clear I am socially awkward. I don’t need anyone or anything else in my life to make myself happy, and I am in the least bit insecure. You trying to make me look like a fool won’t make me look anymore stupid, and I’m not upset that you’re trying to do so.” I stated.

He looked at me with a smile, and I just looked at him back, just as puzzled. “ What do you want ?”, I asked. “ You”, is what he replied with.

The bell rung at his response and I picked up my bad and disposed of my garbage letting Daniel sit there in his lonesome. The day ended like any ordinary day, and I boarded the bus again. Making my way to my usual spot, I spied the back of a familiar person sitting there. When I reached my destination, he was turned around at this point and had a cheesy grin on his face. It was Daniel. I sat down next to him and the first words that came out of his mouth has something to do with rejection.

“ I’d give you a chance if I thought you deserved one,” I said.

“ And why Don’t I deserve a chance?” he questioned me, as if trying to persuade my decision towards what he established he wanted.

“ To be blunt, I don’t trust you. You’re out of my league, and a general prince charming. In other words, everything I shouldn’t have,” I responded.

“ Which is all more of the reason to go after your dreams, to prove everyone wrong,” He said.

“ And what if I do trust you , and then you hurt me. Then I’ll be right back where I started, but with less pride and dignity”, I stated.

At that point the looked straight into my eyes and said, “ I want to love you, because I know the love you could give in return would shine brighter than the sun itself”.

I was caught in a speechless moment. Not only did I get butterflies from what he said, but my brain started to agree with my heart, and that decision could be to take the chance. “ Okay,” I said.

School shortly ended a few months later, and we both graduated. We spent the summer together by going to the park at midnight, and swimming in the nearby lake. I gave him my heart, and I fell in love completely. We had a few minor arguments here and there throughout our relationship, but I’m glad we were strong enough to pull through, because after spending so much time with one person, you become unified. I am now 76 years old, and working on my 51st year anniversary with Daniel. I couldn’t possiblely be happier, and I believe risking all that I had, was the most important thing I had ever done. Love can change you for the better, and that’s exactly what it did to me.