I fell in love for the first time in the middle of the summer before my senior year of high school. I was seventeen years old. So many changes were happening, things I never thought I would have to face. And at such an awkward time. Such bad timing. But here I am, several months later and still in one piece. I truly believe that he was the glue that kept me together, though he was 800 miles away.
Moving away from the homes I have lived in while going through my crucial part of growing up. Going from two homes to one for the first time since kindergarten. The three people who brought me the most happiness moving to another state. Watching a divorce happen right in front of me for the second time in my seventeen years of living. Facing depression for the first time. I had nothing to look forward to except the day that he was coming back to California.
The day he came back I was the happiest I had been in weeks. He brought me out of my sadness and distracted me from my depression. People went from asking me if I was okay to telling me that I’m glowing. He made me feel love for the first time. He told me everything was going to be okay and it is.
Thank you for being my first, thank you for being my glue.