Short Story / Untitled Part 1

Call me crazy, but in my opinion love starts at the age of twelve. I was twelve when I got my first period and my first boyfriend. Not necessarily the best combination in the world, much like a car and alcohol. I guess I didn’t fall in love but I started to get the idea of love. Love is something most people only dream of discovering and the rest are glad that love became a burden. At fourteen I learned a new form of love, obsession. The first boy to ever become my obsession wasn’t really a boy at all. He was eighteen and my first real kiss. I grew up really fast since him. All I always wanted was to fall in love with someone older. There was always this mystery to it. The mystery of them knowing more than you so you always feel stupid in comparison. I guess most girls my age at that time loved that idea. To be stupid. At fifteen, I didn’t learn my lesson as I dated someone even older, twenty. He was a cheater and a nymphomaniac. Don’t worry dear readers, I would not lose my virginity to someone like him. And the fact that I had heard he was hung like an elf didn’t phased me but did make me laugh incredibly hard. I still laugh about it today. After two failed relationships, I fell for a younger lad, six months younger. He was my longest relationship lasting eight months. I loved him. He was a real love. I guess I really loved him because he said he loved me too, only for it to be a huge lie lasting the whole relationship. I gave up after him, at least for five months.

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