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My first love was my brothers best friend. I was 13 and he was 12 when i met him in January. His name was charlie. i was watching television when i saw him walking through the door of our house. he was over to hang out with my brother. our eyes met, and i remember that my first thought was, hmm...not the cutest. Could I be more shallow? my second thought, however, was, wow. those are the most beautiful eyes i have ever seen. time seemed to freeze as we looked at each other, like in the movies, you know? well, that day we talked, but in 7th grade, you know, if the guy is younger than you, he is "off limits".

 in the days after he left, though, i found myself thinking of him constantly. he came over again, and we talked so much that my brother was irritated that he was being ignored.


things continued for about a year, during which time i realized i really liked charlie. then January rolled around again, and it all changed.


me, my friend, my brother, and charlie all went to a ski hill, and had a blast! that night, he called me, and we were talking for almost two hours. finally, he confessed his feelings for me, and i told him of mine for him. two weeks later we were dating. it was better than i had ever imagined. i was 14 by then, and he was 13. sweet words, soft kisses, amazing (if cheap) dates. it was like a summer romance, except it lasted almost two years. January had become our month. he was there for me when my dad went away to the Iraq war, and i was there for him when his beloved grandfather died. we talked about anything and everything, and were constantly in one anothers thoughts. 


i had fallen so deeply in love, i was fully prepared to spend the rest of my life with him. he often told me how much he loved me, saying he wanted to marry me, he would do anything for me, and he decided that if we got married, we would have to get married on January 16th, the day our lives began, when we met each other, the day we started dating, and the day we both realized we were in true, black and white film, chocolate and roses, cant live without you, love.


but, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.


January came, once again, and suddenly, i felt like i couldn't sense his love anymore. after about a week, one week after our two year anniversary, i talked to him about it. he didn't know what i was talking about, but as the second week went on, i could feel it more than ever. he didn't love me anymore, and worse, i didn't love him. so, two weeks later, i did what i thought i would never have to do.


i broke up with him.


it was the hardest thing i ever had to do, and we were both sobbing, there for each other one last time.


somehow, impossibly, we are friends now, just friends.


it still hurts terribly to see him with his girlfriend, even though i have dated since then, but i know that January will come, and things will change.


maybe our love didn't survive. but our memories did.




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