Isn’t it scary to think that all our future romantic
endeavors fall upon the silly decisions of love when we are 18? Our first loves
make or break us. We can choose to learn or shut down. Part of us will always
compare others to them no matter how great or horrible they may be. There
touches, there kisses, or the way they made you feel. It lives in us like a
tattoo on our minds. We never get past it. Do we want to? Or do these loves
define us as people? Are they meant to push us down the roads we need to be or
do they make us crippled by the youth we so long to keep? Maybe those lucky
enough to keep there first loves are the ones who get to live in that bubble
while the rest of us give into the undeniable pain of growing old and never
sharing that heart-shattering love. Maybe, we really truly are ghosts of our
own past love. Ghost that are destined to share fragmental love till the end.
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