I was 14, the first time I thought I was in love.
I loved you because I couldn't have you, not because you meant the world to me. I didn't love you to simply love you. I tried to love you because I wanted to know what its experience being in love.
I believed loving someone simply meant believing you did. Being in love was telling yourself you wanted nothing but their happiness. I thought drowning myself to help you swim meant that I loved you.
I enjoyed the idea of you rather than the reality of being with you. We were young; too young to have known what we wanted from the world, yet, we were bound together by a haphazard I love you.
YOU ARE READING
Clinging to Unreachable Stars
Roman d'amourA memoir that centers on the idea of not only living through the seasons of love and life but the self-growth and exploration that comes with change. The book tells the tales of love, heartbreak, despondency and maturation over the course of 5 years...
