The one who held my hand when we were walking down the street, whose arms I laid in and never wanted to leave. The one who I talked to for hours and told pointless stories to. The one who knew everything about me and liked me anyway. The one who knew exactly what I was saying even if I didn’t and helped me when I had no clue what to do. The one who showed me what love was and what it was like to need someone there. The one who could only make me cry and hurt me like no other guy could. The one who wished on shooting stars with me and called me stupid names. The one who fought so hard to let go of me, but couldn’t. Those eyes that said everything,that sense of sarcasm that was always there; the way even he couldn’t stop from falling in love. That even though we fought constantly and couldn’t stand each other, we couldn’t leave each other’s side. Something is still there; something that never left me the day that boy broke my heart in two. Something like your first love that wasn’t ready to end. Something that makes your stomach flip at the brush of a hand or arm. Something that makes it so much harder to know that he’s not yours anymore. Something that makes you want to hide away and cry all those tears, because suddenly all of those memories come back and it almost hurts worse to know that it’s all out of control. And you just miss everything about that boy that isn’t ever coming back.