When I was 16, I fell in love with a boy named *Patrick- To me, he was my first everything! First kiss, first love, first lover. I wanted to run away with him, have him marry me and give me children. Yes, very silly. But I was back then a bit hopeless and very much in love.
In the end, he left me because of the distance. I was studying, he was working- we just grew apart. After a year and a half, the routine was all that was keeping us together. I never cried. I remained constantly happy just to remind myself that it wouldnt matter in the future, untill obviously it did. Matter, I mean.
Today I blame him in my lack of romantic confidence, yet I have to thank him for waking me up.
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