m.w.m

The funny thing about my first love is that as soon as I stepped into my honors History class and saw him sitting there, in the space in front of mine, I knew that he'd end up being special to me.

I've been told my intuition is wickedly accurate, and I'm not one to doubt it. Even then, in my freshman year of high school. How could I have known that you would end up being so important? Even if I only got one glimpse of your charming smile?

But I did. I knew. And after a year of a friendship where he saw my heart get torn in every which way and we told each other our most innermost thoughts and even told each other about our crushes, that's when I realized what I had been chasing was right in front of me for that whole year. That's when I knew it, right in my bones.

He made me feel bold, confident. I knew that he felt the same as I did through a mutual friend, so I just went right out and told him how I felt, and I still remember his amazed yet soft smile, and my name being whispered on his lips, followed by the return of his mutual feelings.

Here I am, a year and three months later, and he still makes me feel bold and confident and above all else beautiful. Because he's still here, and in love with me.

And I'm still in love with him.