Love

Growing up the way I did, in a broken home with nothing but fear, few happy memories, and disorders, I grew up starved of everything. I was distanced from my peers and sometimes my own family. I didn't really make connections with anyone while everyone else seemed to click together. Whenever I met someone that was nice to me, I instantly latched on to them. I was just completely craving and chasing the love I wanted. It's not like my parents don't love me they do. It's just they're parenting styles, the cycle of abuse, the stress, their health, all of that took a toll on them to the point where they took it out on us. My mom more than my dad. At least my dad would have a reason like, we didn't clean something right or someone like my mom or grandma would yell at him to yell at us. But mother would do it just because she could. Of course, that doesn't excuse neither of their behavior but back to the matter at hand. I was just so desperate for that connect I was deprived of I would latch on to that bit of kindness I was shown.

A lot of the time, no one wanted me, or they would get sick of me. But in the sixth grade when I was nothing but an empty shell of the child I should have been, I met him. My whole world, the other half of my soul. Our conversation started with me lecturing him and our mutual peer on littering and loitering. At the end of it, I felt lighter than I had in years. Usually, people meet me and forget about me not really wanting anything to do with me unless they need me for something or I'm entertaining to them, but not him. Never him. He kept me around because he wanted me all of me and everything I brought. My crazy, my needs, my love, everything. We were everything to each other. Throughout that whole year we grew closer. When the summer came and went, I expected him to forget me, to move on, but no, we had first period together in seventh grade and he went out of his way to make sure I knew we still had that connection. I remember the way his eyes lit up, the way he perked up when he saw me walk in at the end of the day. I was so surprised that he recognized me and even acknowledged me. Let alone visibly brighten when I walked in. From then on, we spent every second we had with each other. He got in trouble for it all the time by his mother and stepfather because from what I later learned; they were abusing him. He never told me about it in middle school, but I always felt this off presences about them whenever they were around him. He was scarred, battered, and broken like me but, we were slowly healing each other. All we felt we had was one another. Until his parents ruined it for us.

In the middle of seventh grade, his mother was fed up with him. She told me she didn't want him around me that he was a liar and a con artist. While I was too much of a good girl to be mixed up with him. I'll never forget that feeling even now I don't know how to describe it. It was soul crushing, heart wrenching. I felt so numb and empty, hot and cold. I felt everything and anything I had all at once. I had never felt so sick in my life. I still remember his face, the look in his eyes when he, his little brother, and his mother showed up at my house that day. The pleading in his eyes, the sadness, the look that told me everything was over for us in a matter of minutes. 20 minutes was all it took for our world to come crashing down on us. All I had left of him was his knife that he gave me the day before. Of course, I had to give it back to him the weekend after. My brother did it for me.

The years I spent without him were hard I started hurting myself, staving myself, making horrible choices left and right. I let people hurt me in so many different ways until I was worse than what I was before we met. I had a few good people in my life after him. My mentor and my platonic dominant, but they couldn't fill the hole he left. I learned when we met again that he was worse off than me shortly after or splitting up, he kept getting into trouble. He got expelled, into drugs, went to jail, he was forced into a gang, his mother gave him up. I swore I'd never let anything hurt him again after that.

Seeing him again, having him again, was just pure euphoria. Getting to feel him after all those years apart (it was only five, but it felt like 50) was everything to me. His laugh, his smile, his awkwardness, always warmed me from the inside out. About two years later after covid forced us apart again, we found each other once more. He told me he's been in love with me since the day we met. I never knew someone like him could love me, but he swept me off my feet. I had never loved anyone the way I love him. I've never longed and ached for anyone the way I do him. But at least now we're together and they could never tear us apart again. Not when I'm about to propose once I get his ring ready.