A boy and a girl- that’s all we truly were. What else could we be? We were 14. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when I knew, but probably when I was 14 and you agreed with everything I said.

But 14?

Maybe I thought I was destined to have you. It sounds immature, but how did we get sat together two years in a row?

Maybe it was my best friend mentioning how much you stared at me. She wouldn’t have lied to me, even when you paid her the same attention.

But this was all so long ago; two years is so very long.

I can’t say I ever loved you. That’s wrong- not when you have a girlfriend that you love. Not when my heart dropped when I found out, but that’s irrelevant.

And now we’re 16 and you got so close, so very close, and I could feel your breath on my cheek and your arm against mine as you leaned in.

And now I’m remembering how you went out of your way to walk with me in the halls between classes.

Maybe it was the brown eyes I lost myself in. It wasn’t yours I loved first, but perhaps the most.

And is it even adequate to call that love?

Your eyes that made me feel like the only girl in the room; such beautiful dark eyes.

Maybe it was your hair that fell so perfectly over your neck, just the same as the color of your eyes. The hair I have to watch from behind now- but that’s for the best.

All this is- deep, deep down- is fourteen year old me hoping I had even the slightest chance with you. I haven’t evolved in two years, only grown up.

I could not love you. Someday, possibly. But you love someone else, and if you flirt with me now you’ll flirt with her then. It’s my fault for thinking I could have been her.

“I know I could have loved you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

And I’ll never forget the sound of a boy who pretends he loves me.