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Feeling speechless as a young girl

Chicago, IL, USA

         

My sister attempts to murder me.

Chicago, IL, USA

         

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London, UK

         

TEST NDU FINAL

11C Wynnstay Rd, Prahran VIC 3181, Australia

         

Be safe and don’t be distracted by girls

Bali, Indonesia

         

Magnum is more than a drink, it’s an attitude

London SW8 5BZ, UK

I was in love with an idea, not a person

Family/Friends

My first ever relationship was back when I was 16 years old. It was one of those that truly
speaks to the folly, naivety and imagination of youth. It lasted just over a year, but felt like a
lifetime.

Love at first sight, butterflies dancing vigorously in the stomach with every glance,
every moment was cherished like it was our last…etcetera etcetera. Needless to say, the
intensity of our coming together was matched only by the heartbreak of its end. It’s a
feeling that I will never forget: the potency of those emotions remains suspended inside,
locked away and reflected upon in times of inner reflection and thought. Yet whilst that
‘love’ that we shared was crafted out of no previous experience, and may just have been the
culmination of raging hormones, or previously unarticulated emotions, it felt very real. To
say that I struggled to move past it would be a disservice to the truth. We didn’t speak or
see each other for two years after she broke it off, and yet we have met a few times, as
adults, shared our stories and traded ideas on love and relationships. Yet it was what she
wrote to me in a letter several years later, that helped me to come to terms with all that
had happened, and to help me mature in my appreciation of love; to understand what it is
and where it comes from. I think I had expressed to her that I still loved her in some way
after all these years, and her response was perfect. She told me that I was in love with the
idea of her, of what I remembered her as, but not as she is now.

I was in love with an idea, and the intangibility of that idea was what was causing me to hold on, to wait and hope that something might change, and that all of it would become more real. This was of course an impossibility, but it took her to shake my naïve childhood sentimentality out of me.

I was in love with an idea, not a person

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