I was 12

I was 12 the first time I fell in love
it was just a tingle, a sense in my stomach
every time she looked at me
every time she crossed her arms in front of her body
claiming me as her own best friend

I lay on the bed and put my face against the pillow
squeezing my legs together, picturing that I was her
ignoring the guilt I could feel building
but I couldn’t forget seeing her hand on mine
as she helped me up and blew kisses on my skinned knee

how I struggled to breathe when her dad took her away
looking out the back window of the station wagon
I saw her wave once through the tears



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