We sat alone for the first time on your doorstep, an occasional June bug bothering us to get closer to the porch light. You were rambling about last night, while my head rested gently on your shoulder. Although I lived for the chance to hear your stories, I stopped you mid-sentence by tossing a rock down the sidewalk. "You know you can't get attached to me, right?" His face altered, and you could tell his focus had shifted. "Why not?" he said, while the streetlight came to life as the last bit of sunlight rolled away. I had to look down at my hands, because I couldn't bear to see any pain in his expression. "Because," I stammered, "We are too young to know what love- what this- is." His eyes widened and he scoffed, as if it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. "No one is too young to love! I won't even be your first, y-you know what love is from your past boyfriends." I wish I could believe him. I wish my past relationships were made of love, because maybe if one of them was, it would have lasted. Maybe if it was love, I wouldn't be here, calloused from past mistakes. "I can't lose you. All of the other boys- I lost them. They lost me. You mean too much to me. I can't just jump into something because I want to. You know it's gonna end, and you know it won't be pretty." He let out a sigh, his hands visibly trembling. I bit my lip, hard, the faint taste of blood on my tongue. This is harder than I expected. I had never seen him cry, but i could see his eyes glaze over in the faint yellow light. "So what if we break up someday. It's worth the risk if we could be more than friends for even one day, because when you love someone, its always worth the risk." He tightly wrapped his fingers in mine, and we sat like that for a while, listening to the crickets and the occasional passing car. "Why can't we just live like this?" I asked. I felt my eyes get heavier as the night began, and I couldn't help but notice that his heart beat had quickened. "We can't live like this because it's torture for me, you know that? Not even knowing if you love me or not. Keeping me between friendship and relationship. It hurts." We both sighed and he squeezed my hand tighter. "I know," I said, "I know."
