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Description
The more I look back on my old life in middle school, the more I begin to question what life is supposed to feel like. Maybe back then I just felt the shield of happy. I was a careless child who hadn’t experienced true loss yet. I found what I thought was love, when I lost it, I was still happy. Getting over it within two days was really easy, since I had something to take my mind off of it. My best friend. Whom I had secretly had a little crush on for the past year. I didn’t expect it to go anywhere, though. Three years, nine months, three days, ten hours, and one minute apart.

Too far apart, I thought.
Nothing would happen, I thought.
He’d never see anything in a little fourteen year-old, I thought.

...I thought...

So much happened in a week. So much that it’s impossible for me to remember every single detail. But somehow he had confessed, and so had I. We said I love you. We were a couple. We were sexting. It was all a jumbled mess, but somehow I grew attached to him. I grew attached to the idea of me being protected and loved by an upperclassman. I took his first kiss. He didn’t take mine, I regret to say. But he was so gentle. And as mushy as it sounds, when he kissed my lips, he also kissed my soul. Something I hadn’t felt with my first boyfriend.

He loved me. I loved him. But somehow, I used him. He was so head-over-heels in love with me, and I used that to my advantage.

Never have I ever been in love with someone who actually loved me without me giving them something.
Never have I ever been in love with somebody who didn’t threaten me when their needs weren’t served.
Never have I ever actually been in love. Not until I loved him. And I did.

One night, I got sick. I texted him. He kept falling asleep, but would text on and off within thirty minutes. All I needed was comfort from my boyfriend. But I didn’t pry. It was late. So I turned my sound on, so I’d wake up when he texted me. When he finally texted back, around 7:30AM, I didn’t wake up...but my mother did.

When I lost him, I broke. My heart, my soul, my existence. None of it mattered anymore. I had nothing left to live for. I had nobody to support me. I had nobody to love me. But I was in the wrong, wasn’t I? I was the one who deserved everything I got. I wasn’t the perfect child they raised. I didn’t care. All I wanted was him. All I wanted was my boyfriend. All I wanted was my heart to be pieced back together by his gentle touch.

That’s when the shield broke, as well. I no longer was an innocent child with no knowledge of hurt. I no longer was consumed in happy. That’s when I started to see the world differently. It was so foreign to me. So foreign that I started calling this new way of looking at life “delusions.” Because at the time, that’s what I thought they were. I felt like I wasn’t living. I felt like nothing mattered. I felt like I was just living to be another face in the crowd. I was lost and alone in a room full of people. He consumed my thoughts every single day. I told myself the most positive ideas, just so I’d stay motivated to wait for him. And for a year, I did. I had a few slips, I questioned my love for him a few times, but I’d always go back to him. It was always him. I wrote to him for a year before I thought it was time to give up.

One day, maybe three weeks after I had stopped writing, I noticed our little group chat buzzing. The group chat I hadn’t left yet, in hopes that we’d somehow end up talking again. I noticed that he read a few of the messages I sent, as well as others in the group. I tried not to work myself up. He probably just accidentally clicked on the group. No biggie. Then he chatted. Well, fuck. I had never felt so scared in my life. What am I supposed to do? Do I answer, do I delete the chat, do I tell someone? I froze for a minute. When I finally replied, I replied as if nothing ever happened. As if he wasn’t gone for a year. As if we were just friends carrying on a conversation. My heart was racing. We talked until 5:00AM. I apologized, and so did he. I told him I still loved him. He couldn’t say the same just yet. But I went to sleep actually happy for the first time in a year.

I had huge bursts of happiness for the next two weeks. I’ve always seen myself as quite joyful, but after I had those bursts, I realized that I probably have as much joy stored up as the next person. Since my friends asked what was wrong with me when I was so happy for no apparent reason. Little did they know, I got him back. I always thought that if I got him back, those little “delusions” would stop. When they didn’t, I realized, this is life now. I couldn’t stop the feeling of wanting him. We were best friends again. But our relationship was still on pause. On pause until, I’m assuming, it’s legal for us to be together. We were talking again, as if we had never left. We loved each other again, as if nothing ever happened. I fell in love, all over again. I get the rush again. The high of being in love. And it’s the most amazing feeling in the world. But nothing can go back to the way it used to be. Because there always has to be a conflict. I couldn’t just get him back that easily, right?

Of course there was someone else.
Of course he had moved on from the little 8th grader he had a crush on.
Of course there was someone who wouldn’t use his love.

There was, and then there wasn’t. They broke up. It was so sudden that I had no idea what to think. I felt guilty, I felt relieved, I felt responsible. But nothing would’ve prepared me for his thoughts. He still loved her. He was IN love with her, he said. That broke me.

He broke up with her because he said it wouldn’t have worked out.
He broke up with her so that they both wouldn’t get hurt later on.
He broke up with her for the better.

That’s what he told me. And I know how heartbreak works. It would take time for him to lose feelings for her. But he told me...if she wanted to work things out, he’d want to as well. What am I, then? Plan B, is what I call it. He assured me that that wasn’t the case.

I wasn’t another option, he said.
It isn’t an age thing, he said.
He still loves me, he said.

But he isn’t IN love with me. Not anymore. I’m just fifteen. And until I’m on his level, until it’s legal, until he isn’t putting himself at risk for being with me, he isn’t going to be in love with me. He isn’t going to see me as anything more than a long lost best friend. A lot of things I can’t tell him. A lot of things I avoid mentioning, so that he doesn’t get angry with me. I don’t wanna feel entitled to him. He doesn’t owe me anything. I don’t wanna play the victim. But I waited for him for a year...I poured my heart into our relationship. I never stopped loving him. And when he and I got reunited, I dropped every single love interest I thought I had, for him. He didn’t ask me to do any of that, but I did, because I love him. I’m so hopelessly in love with the man I can’t have.

I’m so in love that I’d put myself in a situation that’s doomed to hurt me.
I’m so in love that if he ends up choosing her, I’d still wait for him.
I’m so in love that I could never give up on him, ever.

A few days later, he loved me. Not that I thought he had ever stopped loving me. But it certainly had faded. Not seeing or talking to somebody you thought moved on can cause your heart to go on without them. He'd still talk to her, and I didn't mind, since they were still good friends.

I loved him so much, and he loved me. We'd talk about the future as if we KNEW it would be with each other. But some days, one of us would be insensitive. Some days, he’d bring up the fact that he and I are still JUST best friends. It may be selfish, but even though he and I aren’t unpaused, I don’t see him as just a best friend. How can I be just friends with someone I’m madly in love with?

A few weeks passed. He loved me. Only me. He was IN love with me. Again. I don't know what snapped in him, but something did. I don't know why he stopped loving her, but he did. I'm the only one for him, he said. I have his whole heart.

Description
The more I look back on my old life in middle school, the more I begin to question what life is supposed to feel like. Maybe back then I just felt the shield of happy. I was a careless child who hadn’t experienced true loss yet. I found what I thought was love, when I lost it, I was still happy. Getting over it within two days was really easy, since I had something to take my mind off of it. My best friend. Whom I had secretly had a little crush on for the past year. I didn’t expect it to go anywhere, though. Three years, nine months, three days, ten hours, and one minute apart.

Too far apart, I thought.
Nothing would happen, I thought.
He’d never see anything in a little fourteen year-old, I thought.

...I thought...

So much happened in a week. So much that it’s impossible for me to remember every single detail. But somehow he had confessed, and so had I. We said I love you. We were a couple. We were sexting. It was all a jumbled mess, but somehow I grew attached to him. I grew attached to the idea of me being protected and loved by an upperclassman. I took his first kiss. He didn’t take mine, I regret to say. But he was so gentle. And as mushy as it sounds, when he kissed my lips, he also kissed my soul. Something I hadn’t felt with my first boyfriend.

He loved me. I loved him. But somehow, I used him. He was so head-over-heels in love with me, and I used that to my advantage.

Never have I ever been in love with someone who actually loved me without me giving them something.
Never have I ever been in love with somebody who didn’t threaten me when their needs weren’t served.
Never have I ever actually been in love. Not until I loved him. And I did.

One night, I got sick. I texted him. He kept falling asleep, but would text on and off within thirty minutes. All I needed was comfort from my boyfriend. But I didn’t pry. It was late. So I turned my sound on, so I’d wake up when he texted me. When he finally texted back, around 7:30AM, I didn’t wake up...but my mother did.

When I lost him, I broke. My heart, my soul, my existence. None of it mattered anymore. I had nothing left to live for. I had nobody to support me. I had nobody to love me. But I was in the wrong, wasn’t I? I was the one who deserved everything I got. I wasn’t the perfect child they raised. I didn’t care. All I wanted was him. All I wanted was my boyfriend. All I wanted was my heart to be pieced back together by his gentle touch.

That’s when the shield broke, as well. I no longer was an innocent child with no knowledge of hurt. I no longer was consumed in happy. That’s when I started to see the world differently. It was so foreign to me. So foreign that I started calling this new way of looking at life “delusions.” Because at the time, that’s what I thought they were. I felt like I wasn’t living. I felt like nothing mattered. I felt like I was just living to be another face in the crowd. I was lost and alone in a room full of people. He consumed my thoughts every single day. I told myself the most positive ideas, just so I’d stay motivated to wait for him. And for a year, I did. I had a few slips, I questioned my love for him a few times, but I’d always go back to him. It was always him. I wrote to him for a year before I thought it was time to give up.

One day, maybe three weeks after I had stopped writing, I noticed our little group chat buzzing. The group chat I hadn’t left yet, in hopes that we’d somehow end up talking again. I noticed that he read a few of the messages I sent, as well as others in the group. I tried not to work myself up. He probably just accidentally clicked on the group. No biggie. Then he chatted. Well, fuck. I had never felt so scared in my life. What am I supposed to do? Do I answer, do I delete the chat, do I tell someone? I froze for a minute. When I finally replied, I replied as if nothing ever happened. As if he wasn’t gone for a year. As if we were just friends carrying on a conversation. My heart was racing. We talked until 5:00AM. I apologized, and so did he. I told him I still loved him. He couldn’t say the same just yet. But I went to sleep actually happy for the first time in a year.

I had huge bursts of happiness for the next two weeks. I’ve always seen myself as quite joyful, but after I had those bursts, I realized that I probably have as much joy stored up as the next person. Since my friends asked what was wrong with me when I was so happy for no apparent reason. Little did they know, I got him back. I always thought that if I got him back, those little “delusions” would stop. When they didn’t, I realized, this is life now. I couldn’t stop the feeling of wanting him. We were best friends again. But our relationship was still on pause. On pause until, I’m assuming, it’s legal for us to be together. We were talking again, as if we had never left. We loved each other again, as if nothing ever happened. I fell in love, all over again. I get the rush again. The high of being in love. And it’s the most amazing feeling in the world. But nothing can go back to the way it used to be. Because there always has to be a conflict. I couldn’t just get him back that easily, right?

Of course there was someone else.
Of course he had moved on from the little 8th grader he had a crush on.
Of course there was someone who wouldn’t use his love.

There was, and then there wasn’t. They broke up. It was so sudden that I had no idea what to think. I felt guilty, I felt relieved, I felt responsible. But nothing would’ve prepared me for his thoughts. He still loved her. He was IN love with her, he said. That broke me.

He broke up with her because he said it wouldn’t have worked out.
He broke up with her so that they both wouldn’t get hurt later on.
He broke up with her for the better.

That’s what he told me. And I know how heartbreak works. It would take time for him to lose feelings for her. But he told me...if she wanted to work things out, he’d want to as well. What am I, then? Plan B, is what I call it. He assured me that that wasn’t the case.

I wasn’t another option, he said.
It isn’t an age thing, he said.
He still loves me, he said.

But he isn’t IN love with me. Not anymore. I’m just fifteen. And until I’m on his level, until it’s legal, until he isn’t putting himself at risk for being with me, he isn’t going to be in love with me. He isn’t going to see me as anything more than a long lost best friend. A lot of things I can’t tell him. A lot of things I avoid mentioning, so that he doesn’t get angry with me. I don’t wanna feel entitled to him. He doesn’t owe me anything. I don’t wanna play the victim. But I waited for him for a year...I poured my heart into our relationship. I never stopped loving him. And when he and I got reunited, I dropped every single love interest I thought I had, for him. He didn’t ask me to do any of that, but I did, because I love him. I’m so hopelessly in love with the man I can’t have.

I’m so in love that I’d put myself in a situation that’s doomed to hurt me.
I’m so in love that if he ends up choosing her, I’d still wait for him.
I’m so in love that I could never give up on him, ever.

A few days later, he loved me. Not that I thought he had ever stopped loving me. But it certainly had faded. Not seeing or talking to somebody you thought moved on can cause your heart to go on without them. He'd still talk to her, and I didn't mind, since they were still good friends.

I loved him so much, and he loved me. We'd talk about the future as if we KNEW it would be with each other. But some days, one of us would be insensitive. Some days, he’d bring up the fact that he and I are still JUST best friends. It may be selfish, but even though he and I aren’t unpaused, I don’t see him as just a best friend. How can I be just friends with someone I’m madly in love with?

A few weeks passed. He loved me. Only me. He was IN love with me. Again. I don't know what snapped in him, but something did. I don't know why he stopped loving her, but he did. I'm the only one for him, he said. I have his whole heart.