Its been
three years since the day I fell in love for the very first time. Just the
awareness hit me like a sharp iron knife going straight through my heart. I was
scared to tell her I knew that she still wasnt over her ex and that she just
wanted to be friends- but I couldnt make up a fairytale anymore. I loved her.
And after two months of constantly talking, I thought Ive waited long enough.
At first, she was laughing at me and didnt believe me at all, although I was
very serious. To my great astonishment, she admitted the feelings were mutual,
and bam, love was in the air. But things didnt continue very rosy. My parents
threw us apart, as soon as they discovered the relationship. I havent spoken
to her since that remarkable, crucial day. I wasnt allowed to do so. A couple
of years ago, my parents decided to keep me away from what they called a
terrible world by teaching me at home: the memorable home-schooling, which I
fiercely hated. The first time I went to a real school was nearly 3 weeks ago,
when I started university. Im studying psychology, the only section Ive
always been interested in. My parents though wanted me to become a scientist, a
doctor, a genius. Ive never really cared about what they wanted for me. Maybe
cause Ive always rejected their opinion anyhow. Im done with that. Next week,
Im leaving home forever. Im going to move into my lovers student apartment.
I hope shell be OK with that. That shell still love me as much as she did
three years ago. Lets keep our fingers crossed
