We met in 8th grade in English class. We were both outcasts, but for different reasons.
You were the class clown who always got on the teacher's last nerve, and I was the quiet kid who would never raise her hand even when I knew the answer.
The beginning of that year was difficult for me. The only two friends I had moved to different schools, so I basically had to start over.
I was like the new kid at a school I had gone to for three years.
You were the only one to notice me.
When you came over to my desk and introduced yourself, I was shocked. Not only did you acknowledge my existence, but you sought me out.
After we exchanged names and stories, you walked me to my next class.
Before I walked into my art class, I turned around to look back at you. You had disappeared in the sea of students rushing to get to class.
My crush on you developed immediately.
We talked every day after class and before catching the bus. You seemed to know me inside and out.
After we parted ways, I would listen to "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry on my iPod Shuffle, look out the window and pretend like we were in a music video together.
Eventually, we realized we liked each other. The day you asked me to be your girlfriend was the day I realized that being on cloud nine doesn't even compare to being on cloud 10.
I remember the day you gave me my first kiss like it was yesterday.
It was Friday, October 22, 2010, at 3:20 p.m. It was cloudy and cool, and romance was in the air. You were wearing an olive green shirt with grey jeans and a pair of Vans.
To this day, olive green is one of my favorite colors.
When you kissed me, sparks didn't fly. Rockets launched. Volcanoes erupted. The Big Bang Theory became the Big Bang Factual Occurrence.
You were my first love, and I thought we would end up getting married.
When you broke up with me, it hurt more than words could ever describe. I couldn't believe that someone could love you one day and then just stop caring the next day.
I wish I had been a better girlfriend to you, and I wish you had been better to me. I guess some things are irreversible.
The rest of my 8th-grade year was spent trying to win you back at all costs, but I've learned an important lesson from our relationship: People can't be won; they aren't prizes.
We haven't spoken in years, but I wish you the best. I hope this world blesses you with every wonderful opportunity you could ever imagine.
It's a crazy world out there, but I know you've got this.