When I Fell In Love

but I didn't really love him.

"If I said I was madly in love with you you'd know I was lying."
Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

That might have been why I never said it.

Blonde hair and blue eyes had begun to be an addiction to me. I was fascinated, captivated, at how colors could be so fair, so unclashing.

My own colors were so harsh to my eyes. A streak of black across and blue lit sky, disrupting the harmony.

It would take me years to learn that chaos is often beautiful.

Maybe that's why this boy stayed as such a constant in my life for a few long years. My adolescent brain took best boy friend and accepted best boyfriend with no hesitation, not quite absorbing all of the implications.

No, I did not understand why it was so wrong to hold hands and feed the starving heart of a little boy who thought the little girl linked to him was the center of where the sun rose and set.

I did not comprehend the love-struck gazes and awestruck expressions that accompanied my record setting attempts at the monkey bars and beating all of the other kids in races around the Big Toy.

My little mind only saw the loyal qualities of a fair haired, bright eyed best boy friend - the kind that made her think of all of the stereotypes she wanted to have.

I did not get that companionship did not always mean love, but also did not erase the option of love.

All I knew was that my best boy friend would do anything for me and the place he held in my heart was a tender one. Did I know how he loved me, so purely as only children can?

Possibly.

Did I know that my love for him was one of trust and family.

Wholeheartedly.

Did I do anything to stop his advances, staunch his hopes before they grew too mighty for his small heart to truly handle?

Not at all.

So for two long years my best boy friend trailed after me, fierce and loud in his appreciation of me, for me, to me. For two long years, I took a loyal boy best friend and turned him into a lapdog he did not deserve to be.

For two long years, I could not say the words he wanted to hear, and I added another tiny, fragile heart to my slowly filling jar.