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His name was Ken Mutlu. I first realized that I loved him in October, 2006. I became obsessed with him. He was my first real love. I swore that no one would know. I swore I would save myself from the pain of ridicule and embarrassment.

I soon broke my promise to myself. I told my closest friends that I was head-over-heals in love with him! But alas, they did not understand the extent of my love, for, though they were the same age as me, I was wiser. They thought it was a crush. How could they know?

Soon, it was February. I couldn't take it anymore. He had to know. So, I told my friend, Callie, to tell him. Everyone laughed at me. Callie asked him if he liked me back. When he said, "No," I was devastated, When I went home that night, I cried my eyes out.

It was my first heart-break. I couldn't believe how much it hurt. I spent days barely talking to anyone. I had no one to share my pain with. I wrote poems about him. I dreamt of him. Every day, I had to go to school, dreading the torment I had sentenced myself to.

Now, almost three months later, I am still recovering. But the pain isn't the same anymore. I realized that it is hopeless to waste my time with someone who could never love me. I have moved on.