Everyone wants to fall in love at some point in their life. The dates, the cuddles, the sweet text, and countless other amazing things. This would have been amazing if it didn’t happen my freshman year of college with a boy 2 years younger than myself.

The summer before my freshman year I met a boy, we can call him J for now. We met and it was almost instant attraction, our first ‘date’ was in the front seat of my car and we sat there for hours just getting to know everything about each other. J was 2 years younger and hadn't really dated anyone, and I was always in a toxic relationship. My friends met his friends, we became one close-knit group and ended up doing everything together. Until the University of Tennessee, Chattanooga offered to pay for me to go to summer classes on campus. I jumped at the opportunity, who wouldn’t take free classes?

For once in my life, I was in a healthy relationship, yet the timing was so so so wrong. J had 2 more years of high school and I felt like I was missing out on my college experience and cutting into J’s summer. Soon it was missed facetime calls and arguments about anything and everything. I trusted J and he trusted me, but it became almost exhausting trying to keep something alive when you only saw them once a month if that. So, J ended things, and we went our separate ways. Sometimes I would come back home and ache at even being in the same town, other times I didn’t feel hurt at all.

I eventually left the University and moved around for a while. J and I still speak, but I often wonder what could have been if he was going to college too, or maybe I would have stayed home to go to school. Who knows, all I know is falling in love when you’re moving away is painful.