Do you have that one person from your past who you will always love?

This is a repost, but it saves me re-typing it.

I was five and she was four. Coming from Finland and knowing virtually no English, she was trapped in a land where nobody understood her and she understood nobody. For reasons best known to the fates, I was gifted the same inadequacy. But I understood more from a look that passed across her face than I have ever understood since. I had no interest in girls until years later. It was just her. She was called Outi and it was love. My life became two lives; the time spent with her, and the time spent without her. We were constantly in trouble with our parents for never being where we should be, missing meals, coming home late. It was just too hard to part.

I used to think she'd brought the Finnish weather because the winter in which she arrived was so bitter they closed the school for two months. We were free to explore the strangeness of everything together; strange to her as a foreigner and strange to me as I'd never seen a landscape transformed by so much snow. Those quiet hours are the only time my life has made complete sense. They exist now only as fragments of a dream I'm desperate to get back to, so different and so long ago, it is falling away from the edge of my memory.

One day she just wasn't there any more. And she was never there again. I found out months later that her father's contract had ended and he'd taken the family back to Finland. It was a difficult time and the only person I wanted near me was the one person whose absence was causing feelings I didn't understand. The weather improved the moment she left and carried on getting warmer into the hottest summer on record. The grass grew faster than you would believe. Over my head until it was like a jungle with a beautiful plague of ladybirds. I would lie on my back in the dessicated, straw-like crop, hidden from everything but the sky, narrowing my viewpoint as one half of a couple and refocussing as a circle of one.

For years, when it snowed, I wondered if she was near. If she was trying to make her way back. I spent long hours in our favourite places, as that's where she'd instinctively turn up too. In the end, being there only reminded me that I was there alone, and so I stopped going back. I hate to think she might be there even now, waiting for me, and that I'm the one who has seemingly forgotten. I hate it so much that I often tell this story, allowing it to billow around the internet in the hope that she learned enough English to read these words and to know what she meant to me. What she still means to me.

when I was 14. I don't know if it was friendship love or love love... but either way I will always love that person.

yes but its over . i can and will love again *stomp stomp slam*

ive been with my boyfriend since we were both 13 im now 18 and he has just turned 19 :)

12 years in 12th grade i new this girl

I fell in love with a guy who used me as a rebound. He's still amazing and we're good friends but fuck it's painful to see him.

yeah......like 4 of em

i love girls from the past with big boobs does that count

I got lucky, Had a friend when I was in fourth grade, we got along excellently, and had many of the same interests. Problem was, my mother was supporting herself plus me and a brother. So we moved about every year. I lost track of her until about a month ago when I was going through some pictures and found our class photo along with her last name- which every kid forgets young.