I thought it was love. I thought the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye was love. I thought that everybody else telling me that it was love definitely made it love. He was a nice boy. He was popular. I was a nice girl. I was popular. We talked, and we shared. We were friends. The type of love that doesn’t get enough credit. Platonic Love.
I thought we had love. I thought his mischievous smile, bad boy exterior, and hated-by-many personality were charming. I thought the alcoholism, and the drugs, and the disrespect, was just a carefree boy. I don't know what I was thinking. The boy was toxic. But at the time, so was I. I thought we were perfect. We probably were at the time. I must have needed the lesson. He probably needed the love. So I am grateful for this love. Unrequited love.
love comes in many forms