I sometimes lie,
and I swear it never happened,
but I know it did.
The first time I fell in love was with
a redhead boy.
We were 12 at the time,
and we had no idea we were falling in love.
We didn't even know what love was.
Yet he made it his daily routine to walk me to my locker and then down to where my Mom
would pick me up from school.
He would walk me slowly down the hill,
it didn't matter if it was hot, raining,
or, even snowing.
He didn't care,
he always walked me where I needed to go.
To Choir class,
to Social Studies,
to Gym,
and to our place,
a corner only we knew.
And for a few months we did this,
and every single day I fell more and more
in love with him.
The way he talked about how
much he loved the rain,
the jokes he made about Social Studies,
the watch he always wore,
how his brown eyes only seemed to get
bigger each day,
the way he sat in front of me
in Science class,
and how he was always my lab partner
by his own choice.
Googles,
Aprons,
Notebooks,
Beakers,
and
an appreciation for each other.
But he left me for a place I knew once,
and I never got the chance to say goodbye.
He left before I could even realize
he was gone.
And I lost my first love by fate,
not by choice.
I've never seen him again.
I haven't talked to him in 4 years.
I haven't thought about him in
3 of those years,
and I pretend it never happened,
because I would rather feel
empty than pained.
