Excerpt: He was my source of life and happiness. I fell so deep in love that I couldn’t imagine to ever be this in love with anyone else.
I always dreamt of being treated like a princess.
The reality is different. I didn’t know. Nobody ever told me. I was naive. I still am. I just can’t get the unrealistic idea of someone loving me endlessly and genuine out of my mind. Something in me still screams and tries to reach that dream and that’s why I get disappointed every single time I am left alone. The thing is that its very hard for me to fall in love, it happens but it takes a lot of time.
Whatever.. my first love was in middle school. You can say that we were meant to be. You know in a class there is always the coolest girl and boy, and everyone knows they have something for each other and that they’ll get together, right? We were that couple. We were meant to be, but.. we were also meant to be broken, I guess. Still I loved him. I remember being so happy the time he asked me out. I felt unbelievably blessed and grateful for this boy. I remember praying to god and thanking him for this gift I got, that was love from the person I loved back. My life was in his hands. Or at least that’s what I wanted to think. He was my source of life and happiness. I fell so deep in love that I couldn’t imagine to ever be this in love with anyone else.
In my eyes he was perfect. Deep blue eyes, just like the ocean. Freckles that covered his porcelain white cheeks. His short light brown hair, that he kept short. His full lips and big strong hands that he had. His deep voice. His manliness. The way he laughed about jokes. The way he spoke, moved and watched at everything. The way that people behaved around him. In my memory all those moments of him feel so vivid.
Right now at this very moment I can see him sitting right in front of me, this 11 year old, looking me right in the eye. Looking at me as if I was the most amazing and captivating little thing on earth. We looked at each other as if we had discovered something so precious and fragile, something that we called love. I remember us looking at each other in a room full of people of our age, but feeling as if we were the only ones in the room. He made me feel special. Also I remember him making me angry so that I had to kind of „punish“ him. I loved our little moments together. I still do. And deep inside me something hopes that he still thinks about the little innocent moments we had too.