Hunter and I were talking in the local park, sitting on a rusty old bench. He put his arm around my shoulder then, and I grinned. He kissed me then, and I decided I should finally confess my love. I tilted his head towards me then. “Hunter, I-I think I love you. I think I always have loved you. Can you believe that?” I laughed awkwardly, looking towards the trees then back to him.

His face was still, looking anything but in love with me. “No, you can’t be. I’m not a good guy for you. We’re just messing as friends, so don’t. You are not in love with me. I’m a mess, and so are you.” I started crying silently, and I put my head on his shoulder, because he was right. I was a mess. And I loved being with him just as a friend, a joke. It’s all my fault. My joking love has turned into something real and he has ruined that for me. “Love ruins, Becca,” I nodded, because he was right. Love was just a feeling. Not something that you would ever have forever with someone. Or maybe it could. Just not with Hunter.

I got up from the bench, and walked away. “Then I’ll find someone else that loves me for me.” I was proud, walking confidently. No more Hunters for me. I needed someone that had genuine affection and feelings. Not something type of joke or antic. I don’t want hilarity.