[ WP ] Write your heart onto your sleeve , Reddit .

I usually lurk here, but I wrote something not too long ago that fits here. Glad I can contribute to a thread for once. 
 
 This is the story about the first girl I ever actually loved. The girl that made me realize what `` love'' is. Love is eight years of feelings. Love is the butterflies you get when you sit next to someone, both the day you meet them in first grade and the final day you say goodbye to her on that bus ride home. It's the person in the back of your mind, who you've moved past since but will never truly forget. 
 
 I do n't actually recall how I met her. She was cute. That's all I remember. No fancy words, I was just a flustered and confused little boy. Girls do have cooties, after all. But,'t was a time for boys to start finding puppy love and realizing girls might be a little more interesting than we originally thought. I must've gone through a phase of infatuation for every girl in the second grade. Those feelings all came and went. She was always at the back of my mind, but she was no more fascinating than the new girl I had sudden interest as of twenty minutes ago. 
 
 I sat in a group with her in third grade, I think. It was her, Cavonna, Christina and I. I always had bad luck being stuck with the women, haha. We'd play our little math card games, goof off like the little kids we were. We were even in the same reading group together. Who would've thought? Well, ca n't say I was n't happy. As slow as school always was, she made me laugh. 
 
 I remember I would always wake up with the stupidest looking hair.. my mother always gave me crap for not fixing it. I looked like a goof. I was rediculous. But it made her laugh. So, that's what I did. I liked seeing her smile. It made me feel like I accomplished something. So, I became a clown. Stupid jokes and sarcastic complaints, that became me. Not-So-Smooth 4th-Grade Sousa. That was me. The awkward, immature boy who just wanted to make people laugh. It was an odd time for me. Matter of fact, from then on the rest of my time at the Pyne was weird for me, haha. I was an awkward child. 
 
 I remember sitting near to her in 5th grade. There was Andrew Donaldson, my fellow Goofy Goober. I remember how he had a thing for Kylie Gardner, haha. I remember staying up late talking to him, assuring eachother that the girls we were so flustered over indeed had felt the same about us. It's a good memory to look back on, now that I'm older. It reminds me how close me and Andrew were back then... it was a good time. 
 
 I remember sitting next to her at one point in the 6th grade, in social studies. We'd mock and joke our way through that class. It was boring as f**k. But it was bearable. It was fun whenever I was with her. I'd get all nervous and flustered, but it was nice. I enjoyed it, despite the massive butterflies. It was incredible. 
 
 And then, along came seventh grade. Cook, Sinha, Mr. B, our crazy old cat lady of a Reading teacher, hahaha. We sat near eachother in History. I think it was probably my favorite class, despite having Cook hate me so terribly haha. I was having grade problems, I think we all knew that. It turned out to be some anxiety issues, but I did n't know that back then. I dunno. I hated it, but grades took the backseat when it came to making her smile. I remember the stupid little poop cartoons I'd draw for her. `` Angel poop'', `` devil poop'', the like. It was stupid. And I'm sure she found them as amusing as her little sister's stick figure drawings of her family right after she learned how to write her name. But she kept them. And I remember spending all my time trying to design new ones for her just to make her smile again. It was stupid. But it was our thing. And it was special- to me, anyways. 
 
 And then came the day I regretted from then on, up to this day. It was near the end of the year. I had a little notepad I had made a stupid little `` List of People I'm Still Mad At'', it had her and Anthony Rodriguez's names on it. I do n't even remember why, probably some stupid petty crap. I think Anthony took it, and those guys were playing keep away with it on the way to Math Intervention with Mr. Joy. I remember vaguely about getting upset.. I think I yelled at her because it could've had something actually personal in it ( even though it did n't. What the f**k is `` personal'' when you're in 7th grade..? ). We did n't talk all that class. I think we had Cook right after. That was when she gave them back to me. All the stupid little poop cartoons I had ever drawn for her, in a little stack. That was the moment when I realized I fucked up. I think I tried apologizing after that- or maybe I did n't because I was afraid she hated me. Either way, I do n't remember us talking much after that. 
 
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