Remember when you were younger, and you were dreaming about one day having your first kiss, your first love, your first boyfriend. Each summer you meet a boy and think, is it him? What is he isn't even aware of me? But... what if he is?
And then suddenly one day is here, and there's love and it's warm and tingly and it feels like golden light shining on you, exposing all of you. The good and the bad, but somehow making even the bad part of you beautiful.
It's absolutely magical.
And then you remember that you're older now, and you are dealt the harsh reminder that our childhood innocence and dreaming managed to overlook, but as soon as you hit reality you can't go back.
Magic isn't real.
YOU ARE READING
He Is, He Isn't
RomanceThe first day I met him we established three things: our names, my intelligence, and his stupidity. Only one thing remains the same. My name is still Ellie, and his is still Ryan. _____ A poetic story of love, heartbreak and laughter, and all the e...
