inounouille
Sometimes, the first love isn't about holding hands or whispered secrets.
It's about the silent moments, the stolen glances, and the feelings you never dare to speak aloud.
This is the story of a boy I never had,
the games we played, the laughter we lost,
and the quiet ache of a heart learning to love and let go.
Through dreams I couldn't control, nights that felt endless,
and the small pinch in my chest that never fully fades,
I learned what it means to care, to grow,
and to finally write my own story.
You're the poem I never write, but read a thousand times each night.