Title: Growing Up and Out of Love
Word Count: 472
Rating: G
Summery: I knew this boy once. I think I was in love with him.
Authors Notes: I lied before. THIS is adolecent yearning at its finest

I knew this boy once. I think I was in love with him. He was vibrant. Alive. Probably the most alive person I have ever met. He was charming, witty, intelligent. All the girls loved him. He was rather immature at times but that was part of his allure. Come to think of it his immaturity wasn't really considered that but just another facet of his playful personality. He flirted, he teased, he lived .

That was the boy I knew. Now the only thing that's left is the image of that boy. Now he's a man. A quiet, introverted man. His eyes no longer shine with his smile. They are hallow, a stormy gray instead of crystal blue.

Sometimes I lie awake and wonder what happened to him. I wonder what could have possibly happened to change him so much. Did a girl break his heart? Did his friends betray him? Did his parents degrade him?

I knew this boy once. I know I was in love with him; and I think he liked me too, but something inside him wouldn't let him return my affection. This man that has taken his place. This hallow, sour human being that has replaced that wonderful boy, now feels the urge to sit next to me in the library, comment on music, ask me for help with his homework.

But I don't want this man. I want the person that I knew, that I loved. I want that boy back.

Funny how love works. By the time the object of your affection comes around to feeling the same you've both changed so much that you don't want him any more. I suppose that its all part of growing up.

Often times, when I'm lying awake wondering what happened to the boy, I also wonder what happened to me. How can I pass up this opportunity to be with him? How can I have waited all these years only to end up where I am now?

There was this boy once. I used to love him. Now where that love used to reside is an empty hole, a space that cannot be filled by the affection of this man, or I fear any other as well. The part of me that loved this boy is screaming to love this man too, that it will be the same in time. The part of me that knows the other is just a little girl, knows that this would not be fair to either of us.

There was this girl I once knew, who loved this boy. But somewhere along the line that girl grew up and didn't need that love to rule her life any more. That girl no longer exists, but in her place is an older and hopefully wiser woman.