Some stories live in the quiet spaces of our hearts—stories we carry but never speak aloud. Not because we don't want to, but because we don't know how to begin. My story is one of those—woven through time with memories only I can truly understand. Moments that may seem small to others, but to me, they meant everything.
This is the story of my first love.
A love that didn't begin with grand gestures or bold declarations, but with a simple smile, a quiet laugh, and a gaze that spoke more than words ever could. It started when I was just a fourth-grader—young, naive, and unaware that my heart had already begun forming a connection I couldn't yet name. That was when I first saw him—Ken.
It wasn't dramatic. There were no sparks or heart-stopping moments. But something about him quietly pulled me in—something I couldn't explain, and yet I felt it deeply. Over the years, through school projects, casual conversations, and fleeting glances, he became a part of my life... without even realizing it.
But that's the thing about first loves: they're often one-sided. They're filled with hope, silent prayers, and a lot of waiting. I waited for him to notice, to see me the way I saw him. But it never happened—not in the way I wished it would.
The love I carried for him was never a fairy tale. There were no epic confessions or sweeping declarations. Just moments. Small, almost invisible moments that meant everything to me—and perhaps nothing to him. And still, I held on. Not because I believed it would turn into something more, but because it was mine. My first love. And sometimes, that's enough to hold on to.
The years passed—thirteen of them, a decade and three. With each one, my love stayed, quiet but constant, layering itself like pages in a story I never had the courage to finish. There was no ending, no closure. Only the realization that sometimes, love—no matter how real—isn't meant to be.
And so now, as I write this, I do it not for him, but for me. To give voice to the feelings I kept silent. To give meaning to the years I spent holding on. To finally let go of the story that never found its ending.
These are the lines left unwritten. The words I never said. The love I never let go of.
Until now.
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DISCLAIMER
This story is based on real-life experiences and emotions of the author. While it draws from personal memories, certain events, names, and details have been fictionalized for storytelling purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights to this work are reserved by the author.
04/19/2025
H.M. LUNA
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Unfinished Lines
Teen FictionUnfinished Lines is a deeply personal and heartfelt memoir about the bittersweet journey of unrequited love. Spanning over thirteen years-a decade and three-this story traces the quiet devotion, longing, and emotional growth tied to someone who unkn...
