No one understands.
No one understands my need for him;
To feel his lips on my neck when we hug.
I may be fifteen, and he might be seventeen…
But we’re meant to be together.
I met him in late January. Not on purpose though. Funny thing is… I hated him. My friend, well… he broke her heart. I found him on Facebook and left a post on his wall: “I hate you.”
In February, he finally replied. Why do I hate him? So I explained.
We talked for hours after that. Then hours daily. He told me his secrets, and I told him mine. I felt his pain, and he felt mine.
A month went by, and we decided it was time to meet face to face.
I was 14, and he was 16. We met at the park by my house. When he stepped out of his car, my heart pounded and my jaw dropped. Tall, skinny, long blonde hair and warm eyes. He stepped close to me, and I stepped back.
Later that night, he messaged me and asked if he scared me. I was confused. “No, why?” came my reply. And he said I avoided him and I laughed in the solitude of my room. I sent back three words: “I like you.”
After that, everything went up hill. Until he broke my heart. I went crazy. I had a strange obsession with the T.V. show F.R.I.E.N.D.S, and I barely talked to anyone. It felt like my heart would never be mended.
He came back. And I welcomed him back. And it mended.
We were happy, and then I left him still scarred by him cheating on me. Scared spitless he would do it again.
A month passed, but I went back. It felt worse breaking his heart, than my own heart breaking.
Ten months after I met him, we’re happy. Two heartbreaks, but now we’re finally forever.
People say it’s dumb that we plan out wedding, our future, and have baby names. Maybe it is… but it’s our way of letting each other know that we’ll be together forever.
They say I’m wasting my time. It’ll be illegal soon, anyways. But I beg to differ. We’re starting early… we’re young… but we’re in love.
Don’t put an age on love, my friends. Take it from me; it’s very possible to be in love at fifteen.
And another thing… listen to me; we may be two and a half years apart, but age is just another. Two and a half years until its legal, but years and years after that. Together.
Don’t be afraid to fall in love, and when you fall down, remember that you’re just that much closer to finally forever.
No one understands my need for him;
To feel his lips on my neck when we hug.
I may be fifteen, and he might be seventeen…
But we’re meant to be together.
I met him in late January. Not on purpose though. Funny thing is… I hated him. My friend, well… he broke her heart. I found him on Facebook and left a post on his wall: “I hate you.”
In February, he finally replied. Why do I hate him? So I explained.
We talked for hours after that. Then hours daily. He told me his secrets, and I told him mine. I felt his pain, and he felt mine.
A month went by, and we decided it was time to meet face to face.
I was 14, and he was 16. We met at the park by my house. When he stepped out of his car, my heart pounded and my jaw dropped. Tall, skinny, long blonde hair and warm eyes. He stepped close to me, and I stepped back.
Later that night, he messaged me and asked if he scared me. I was confused. “No, why?” came my reply. And he said I avoided him and I laughed in the solitude of my room. I sent back three words: “I like you.”
After that, everything went up hill. Until he broke my heart. I went crazy. I had a strange obsession with the T.V. show F.R.I.E.N.D.S, and I barely talked to anyone. It felt like my heart would never be mended.
He came back. And I welcomed him back. And it mended.
We were happy, and then I left him still scarred by him cheating on me. Scared spitless he would do it again.
A month passed, but I went back. It felt worse breaking his heart, than my own heart breaking.
Ten months after I met him, we’re happy. Two heartbreaks, but now we’re finally forever.
People say it’s dumb that we plan out wedding, our future, and have baby names. Maybe it is… but it’s our way of letting each other know that we’ll be together forever.
They say I’m wasting my time. It’ll be illegal soon, anyways. But I beg to differ. We’re starting early… we’re young… but we’re in love.
Don’t put an age on love, my friends. Take it from me; it’s very possible to be in love at fifteen.
And another thing… listen to me; we may be two and a half years apart, but age is just another. Two and a half years until its legal, but years and years after that. Together.
Don’t be afraid to fall in love, and when you fall down, remember that you’re just that much closer to finally forever.
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