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8th Grade
I was in love once. I was only 12 years old, but I was in love. I never meant for my heart to get as far in as it did, but I had no control over what happened. His name was Sam. I couldn't stop thinking about him. I really loved him. We were good friends when we were younger but drifted slowly as time went on. In eighth grade I fell for him all over again, and fell hard.
After months of agonizing drama, and being led on, I came to a point where I had to ask if he would ever like me the way I liked him. Hr said no, simply and coldly, "No, I don’t think so". Those words burned through me like nothing ever had done before. I was broken. The following months where some of the worst I would go through.
But I am still here, still breathing, still believing. I am only scared, and I will always think of him.
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