Lovestruck, Luckless (part 1)

The Spark that lit the Flame....1

It's not every day that you find true love, well that true love finds you. And when it does, it's never subtle. It hits you in the stomach, but not before blinding you.
Almost all girls who grow up watching Disney movies believe that one day their Prince will bring them love and whisk them away to some fairytale home. And almost all of the girls will reach a certain age and come to the realisation that things don't always work out, dreams don't always come true, and not everyone lives happily ever after.2

I met my love when I was 14. I had just moved to a new school and he was the first person to be nice to me, to sit next to me in all my classes. He became my best friend. We couldn't be separated, nothing could come between us, though many girls had tried. He was always there for me, and promised he always would be.
Especially when he told me he was leaving.
That day my heart broke a little. I'd never told him that I'd seen him as more than a friend, I was always too scared of ruining what he had, as well as the rejection. And I came to realise I never would have the courage to, and even if I had, what would be the good of it when he was moving hours away because of his mum getting a new job.
All my Disney inspired hopes and dreams were torn away from me when I was almost 16 and he was telling me he was moving away, that he was moving in just 2 days and hadn't been able to tell me until now because he couldn't find the words. He wanted to leave even less than I wanted him to go.
And so he left, and took with him a part of me that I never got back. He left me with a space in my heart that was filled by his promises of us always being friends no matter what. Along with three simpe words echoing through me; "I Love You".
Who knew that three little monosyllabic words could do so much damage, could inflict so much pain. I cried for days, everyone told me that being so young we had no understanding of what love really was, what it really meant, how it really felt. But we did know, we did understand and we did feel.3

But he kept his promise, he never let the distance keep us from talking every single day, and though we were physically apart, we grew closer than ever. His theory was that the distance made us appreciate each other on a more personal and intense level, and I couldn't argue.
Though he never visited, and I never could go down to see him, we promised that at some point, even if it would be years from then, we would see each other again.4


Kids In Love........5

Things were hard for a while, we both felt so strongly about it and neither of us could do anything about it. There would be nights when we'd talk till 4am, others when we'd phone each other at any opportunity we got, even if it was just for a five minute conversation.
I'd go to bed at night thinking of the things we'd just said, whether it was laughing or joking over things we'd been doing or being vulnerable and serious. I'd spend my days thinking, wandering what he was doing, how he was, and daydreaming about hope, about love, and about the future. We'd talked about that once, about a future, about a home, about it all. We talked about everything. He'd always find a way to make me smile if I was feeling down, he'd always reassure me when I felt lost. Even though he was miles away, he was always there for me, even when I didn't need him.
It was tough, for us both, to feel so much of the good that comes with love, but to constantly be reminded of the bad; that we couldn't be together. I became used to the notion that it was all just a fantasy, that us being together someday was a dream, that though maybe it could happen, it wasn't likely to. I had gotten to the part in my life where guys seemed to find me attractive enough to see me as not one of the guys, but as someone they liked, so I dated, I had boyfriends, but none were ever serious because there was him, always, in the back of my mind, or should I say in the bottom of my heart? It hurt me to hear about him and other girls and he admitted it made him insanely jealous when he heard about me and another guy, but it became another thing we got used to, just like the distance, just like the wasted feelings that did nothing but grow.
Though we didn't talk about "us" much, and when we did it was deep and almost heartbreaking, we had privately staked our claim in the other, he was mine, and I was "his EmJ" and there was never anyone else. And there never would be, we both knew that.
There would be times when I'd get upset and tell him how hard it was for me, to deal with all the confliction in me, because that's all there ever was; confliction. It's like there were two parts of me, the part of me that loved him was always warring with the part of me that was logical and was telling me to be reasonable about it all, I guess you could say that my heart and my head were clearly never in agreement in the issue, and though I did like other guys, I always found my way back to him, my heart was devoted and wouldn't be fooled for long.  When I would talk to him about it, he would always tell me how it was hard for him too, especially since he knew there would never be anyone that he could feel so comfortable with, that he could be himself around, he had said that we were like clock work, everything just fit into place and he knew that I saw through his flaws, just as he saw through mineand he always came back to me, I was always so glad that he did.
Not a day went by when something wouldn't remind me of him or something he said, not a day goes by that I still don't. But when I turned 18 things seemed to change.6

He kept making more and more promises, some felt empty, some felt too sincere. He was determined that he would see me, even if only for a day, but the thought of that hurt more than he understood. I knew that if we spent the day together, the moment he would leave again would leave me in broken pieces on the floor in a pile where he'd just stood. But still the hopes came flooding over me as he seemed more sincere than ever before, and they'd wash right through me as I reminded myself that it wouldn't be any time soon. He was talking about the future again, a future that seemed to grow more distant as time went on.
I had talked to friends about it, and had gotten one of two reactions. The first reaction was from Vicky, my best friend of fourteen years that told me to never let go of that hope because without it I would crumble, she told me to be thankful I have him in my life at all as some may never have anyone like him in theirs, and that it could be more if we made it so. She knew how strongly I felt, she had felt it herself, but had her heart broken twice over by the same guy. She knew that part of me would always love him, whether I admitted it or not, it was not a flame that would flicker into nothingness. She would tell me again and again that things would work out in the end, that she knew of noone that would be more perfect to me than him. She helped me through it all.
But the most common reaction was the one I didn't like. It was the reaction that would make me regret even mentioning his name. They would tell me I was being foolish, that he was giving me false hopes and that I was letting him tear me up from the inside. The truth was, yes he did hurt me, but unintentionally, unknowingly. I was told over and over that I should cut him out of my life so that I could move on. This reaction always came from the people that knew little about me, about him, and were clueless to how much he meant to me.
Little did they know that the more they tried to disuade me, the harder I fell, the tighter I held on to him. I wanted him, I needed him. He had been such a big part of my like for four years, he'd had such an impact on me, more than they could ever understand. I hope one day they will know what love is like.7