It’s okay that I’m not the girl of your dreams and that you're not the one that I took to my senior prom.

I just hope to be the girl you think about 10 years from now.

I hope you tell her about me.

Who ever she might be.

Wherever you end up meeting her.

I hope when she asks about your past, you do not think of who came before me, or who came after me.

I hope you think of the girl who sang you her favorite songs in your Dad’s old Rav4 on a school night and moments later we saw cop lights flashing behind us. I hope you tell her that I couldn’t stop laughing, but you kept thinking how my Dad was going to kill you.

I hope the girl who comes to mind is the one who wrote so passionately in the letters she wrote you, as if she could spend the rest of her life loving you. As if she even knew what that was.

When she asks, “Did you love her?” I hope that you remember how you were only fourteen, but for the next 3 years of your life, I was everything.

I hope you tell her I was only fourteen but you made my heart beat so fast during the time I didn’t want it to beat at all.

I grabbed you and asked you how I could make you happy. You looked at me and said you’d be happy if I was happy. So I tried so damn hard to fix myself; but you were gone before I could even smile.

-To the first boy I ever loved. It was childish, but it was always real.