My Love Story.
Eighth grade. 2nd hour English class. We met. His name was Dylan. We talked. We texted. We laughed. We became friends. We got closer. We became best friends. We protected each other. He was like my older brother. We fought like a married couple. We joked around a lot. We flirted all the time. He told me he liked me. I didn't feel the same. We stayed good friends. He dated someone else. I got jealous. I realized I liked him a lot. I wouldn't admit it. We stopped talking. He broke up with her. He texted me. We started talking again. We became really close again. We fell in love. He asked me out on May 26th, 2011, his birthday. We didn't see each other much over the summer, but we made it work out somehow. We dated all through freshman year. We fought a lot more, due to the fact that both of us realized we would be going to different high schools next year. We got in a huge argument, both of us in tears, screaming over the phone. We worked it out. Four days after school got out, he called me. He didn't see things working out for us over the summer. He broke up with me. He practically shattered my heart, ruined my summer, and made me cry endlessly. We didn't talk half of this summer. However, I still had his hoodies. He came over last weekend. We talked. I cried again. It was the first time I had ever cried in front of him. When he left, it was raining. I walked to my best friend's house in tears. When I got there, he texted me. He's trying to be friends again. I would love to be his friend again because I can't lose him. He's one of the best things that's ever happened to me, so far. Only problem is I'm still hopelessly in love with him, waiting for him to feel the same. If we're as close as we were before, then maybe things will just fall into place like they did before. But, at this point, I'm just praying he doesn't forget about me and everything else we've been through together.</3
if you actually took the time to read all of this, thank you, I love you, and God bless
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