When you're young and you don't know what life is all about, it's hard enough. But when you revolve your seemingly useless life around another person, the only true thing you'll get from it is a broken heart.

When I was 16, I met a boy with whom I fell madly (I mean very madly) in love with. At the time he had just turned 17, finishing senior year just after his 18th birthday.
with only a year of high school left and an ambition to go far in life, I knew it was inevitable that we would separate and he would go to uni whilst I stayed here; all along I thought I was mentally preparing myself for this.

But after a year that I believe to be the best year of my life, he went away without as much as a goodbye. I woke up one morning and he was on a plane, while I was doing community work on a Saturday.

My home screen never flashed the words "My everything❤️" again.

He didn't call. He didn't text. He didn't email. He didn't send me a fucking letter. He was gone.
For all I knew he could've been lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

Hours turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. My heart never healed from its loss.
I cried. More than I thought was possible. I cried in the shower, at night, when I woke up. I re-read all of our texts just to feel like he was still here. I re-played his laugh in my head and tried to remember the colour of his skin and the way his eyes got slightly lighter in the sun.

But no matter how hard I tried to keep him with me, he was gone.

And I still check my Facebook for a sign of him wanting me the way I want him.

It never comes.