----------7


Ever since then, you were always on my mind. I couldn't help but think I had worn your sweater because it was freezing at my cousins' football game the next day (I had forgotten mine,) and that you had guided me with your hands on my shoulders when I had lost control of the scooter I had ended up riding that night. Even now, my smile blossoms into a rose, and I marvel at the touch of your gentle hand. I have never felt this way about any one, because it was never real with anyone else I thought I had "liked."

I've wondered what you think of me, since that day my cousin told you I liked you. I don't think you know the extent of what you have done to me. My thoughts fill with memories of you. My cheeks turn hot and rosy without a reason, and my head spins with fantasies of you and me.

I do believe it has happened to me. I understand that I don't know what love is. I was only twelve and now thirteen, but you are my first real crush.

Ever since then, you were always on my mind. I couldn't help but think I had worn your sweater because it was freezing at my cousins' football game the next day (I had forgotten mine,) and that you had guided me with your hands on my shoulders when I had lost control of the scooter I had ended up riding that night. Even now, my smile blossoms into a rose, and I marvel at the touch of your gentle hand. I have never felt this way about any one, because it was never real with anyone else I thought I had "liked."

I've wondered what you think of me, since that day my cousin told you I liked you. I don't think you know the extent of what you have done to me. My thoughts fill with memories of you. My cheeks turn hot and rosy without a reason, and my head spins with fantasies of you and me.

I do believe it has happened to me. I understand that I don't know what love is. I was only twelve and now thirteen, but you are my first real crush.
When bitter salty tears cascade down my cheeks, I think of you. When my day's gone wrong and I feel like no one understands, I think of you. When I feel like no one cares about me, I think of you. Songs, tributes, fantasies are all about you. When my unseeing eyes stare off into space, I wonder what it will take for you to understand how I feel about you, you have absolutely no idea of the way I get goose bumps with just the thought of you. My body tingles with "love" and yearning. I can't help but think I want to be with you. I can't help but think you are the one. I can't help but think that we will have a future, a fairy tale love story to tell. I can't help but think that my first kiss will be with you.

The way you didn't hesitate to put your arm around me for birthday pictures at my thirteenth birthday party (I was so afraid to ask my mom if you could come and to invite you, I didn't know how you would react,) and the birthday card that made me feel special.
----------10

The way we are timid in each other's presence. I can't help but ask myself: is this love?


Whenever I pray, I pray to God to give me a sign, to tell me whether or not we will have a future together. I pray for him to keep you safe and bless you, and I express my feelings to him. I've written a song about you, and dedicated songs by famous singers to you. When I lay awake at night I can't help but wonder: is this love?

Everyone knows how I feel about you it seems, everyone but you. I understand that I am young, but this feels like "love" to me.

----------11

I can ever gather the courage.

What does it mean to love someone? Care, compassion, help, understanding, sympathy. All of this and more I feel for you. A different form of love than what I feel for family and friends. For me, family, friends, and school are my priorities. In terms of relationships, I believe in balance (time for everyone: family and friends) and boundaries.

It does not matter what people say. I will wait for you. I will be here. I can guarantee that you will be in my dreams and in my mind. I shall keep you in my heart until I see you again. Maybe it will happen, and maybe not, but I still have hope that you are and always will be the one. All I can do is wait, and hope that you feel the same way.

----------12


Your thirteenth birthday came and went, July 1st, the year 2011. Exactly 161 days younger than me, but age is only a number. As my trembling fingers typed in my user name and password into the Facebook edit fields, I did not have to read the birthday notification that popped up at the top of the page, I already knew. You had been the one to accept my hesitant birthday party invitation back in January (the thought of you declining deeply disheartened me,) but you were the only boy I had invited to a birthday party who had actually come with a birthday card that said,

"Who else can say they are you?"

I couldn't help the blood that flowed in hot pursuit into my cheeks, nor the aroused butterflies that danced, contented in my stomach. I could not help but wonder if you really felt that way, if you really meant the words written in the card. My head spun with this thought, and refusing to think otherwise, I truly felt original. You made me feel one of a kind, special. It was then that I felt your arm around my shoulders as if it were still true, the goosebumps rose once again and my arms tingled, I shivered with pure captivation.
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It had felt almost natural as if you were planning to do it, and not because my aunt had made it awkward by telling you to and had given you the piece of cake with my name on it and pointed it out casually.

As I posted a happy birthday wish upon your virtual wall, I realized that as obvious it would make the fact that I liked you if I made you a Birthday card (although you already knew, because my cousin had told you long before,) I imagined it to be the perfect fairy tale even though that wasn't realistic. I was planning to go to my cousins' house (your next door neighbors) the following Sunday, but I was stubborn, sure that I would not have the bolster of courage that was needed to approach you. I made it anyway: an intricate braille birthday cake topped with candles on the front of a homemade card. On the inside I signed my name as best as I knew how.

Come Saturday, a change in plans informed me that I would not be going until I came back from vacation and camp in August, but it hit me that I could send it off in the mail before I left to New York on Wednesday for my aunt to deliver it to you for me.
----------14

Addressed to my aunt, stamped and sent off to Stoneham, 6.3 miles away. Although I wanted to, I was not the one to drop it into the local mailbox. That night in New York, my dreams were conquered by you, and as I lay awake Thursday morning, so was my mind.

----------15

I received a call from my aunt Thursday evening at precisely 8:56 PM. I had not been near my phone which was away in my purse (I figured no one would call me,) but my aunt had called my mother when I didn't answer and asked her to ask me whether or not I wanted her to open the envelope and give you what was inside, to which I had said yes. I stayed with my cell phone between my sweaty palms until at last the automated voice sounded, and the phone sent an invisible current through my hands as it vibrated. My ringtone Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars was not given the time of day, as I had pressed the talk button with as much speed and accuracy as a predator having stalked and was now attacking its prey.
"Hello?"
"Hi, I just gave it to him right now, I'm going to put him on the phone."
"Okay." My voice quivered with apprehension.
"Hello." Your voice came suddenly, like a cool breeze on a sweltering summer day.
"Hi!"
"Hi Precious."
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"Hi!"
"Thank you for the letter, the note or whatever. The braille, it's really cool, but I can't understand it." I could hear the slightest of a delicate laugh, and my heart swelled.
"Oh, no problem."
"Thank you."
An awkward pause, background noise on both ends of the conversation.
"Your welcome."
"Well anyways, again thanks for it, bye."
I was speechless, breathless. How did I know this was going to happen? How did I know that she was going to put you on the phone?
"Hello." My aunt's voice relieved the awkward tension I felt, but I was grateful, because I knew that it would have been worse if I had been standing there in front of you, you would have seen my flushed cheeks and ever-present smile, always a problem (I can't pull off a pokerface.)
"What does the braille say?"
"It's supposed to be a Birthday cake, but I kinda messed it up."
I strained my ears and listened intently as my aunt explained ("She was drawing in braille.
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If you look at it now, you can see the candles at the top.")
"Everyone's impressed," I assumed she meant the neighbors, all the kids like to mingle outside with one another.
"His dad's checking it out, too." My silent smile and momentary recollection of the 285 days I had known you sent my heart racing, my veins pulsing with adrenaline.
The phone call ended with my aunt telling me to take care of myself, and to remember that she loved me. There was no way I could forget that I want to love you, but somehow it feels wrong to feel this way.

----------18 Ever since I met you, I had begun to search for songs that reminded me of you. Since then, I have dedicated up to fourteen Taylor Swift songs (Sparks Fly, Enchanted, Beautiful Eyes, Hey Stephen (which I changed to your name of course,) Love Story, You Belong With Me, Jump Then Fall, The Other Side of the Door, Fearless, Fifteen, Untouchable, Invisible, Crazier, Superman, and Ain't Nothing About You,) SOS and Umbrella by Rihana, and Sweet Dreams and Halo both by Beyonce to you. I have also written a song especially for you entitled Somethin In The Air: There's somethin' in the air, don't know what it is, I feel my heart racin' and my head spin, Tryin' not to blush but I can barely stand it when I see you, when I see you. Is this love? Is this love? There's somethin' about you that's so incredible. Somethin' in your voice when I talk to you. I try to hold it back, but it's no use. I get butterflies when I realize, That you are everything I've always wanted. Is this love? Is this love? Every time you come around, I can't help but think I wanna be with you. Every time you come around, my heart beats. My heart beats passionately for you. Is this love? Is this love? ----------19 There's somethin in the air, don't know what it is. Think it's love. I admire you from afar, and from a distance you sweep me off my feet. I will not give up hope for the day when we talk again: no awkward moments, just charming conversation: the way it was the day I met you. Epilogue Feelings are flying. Hearts intact. Mesmorizing, petrifying, hypnotizing. I hope for an everlasting story. One that lives on past this moment. Hand in hand as long as we live. I am falling. Deep, drifting, floating amidst the pit of dainty hearts and reaching hands, open minds and souls of liberation and spirit. Falling, there will be no end, no bottom on which to land. This is only true, if you do not decide to catch me. So it shall be. Until you find me, I will wait. Silent and hopeful. Loving and watchful. I shall hold you close, your entity beside my entity. For the day when and if you catch me. ----------21 Dedication This book is dedicated to my secret first love Jerry Jacques Jr (Jay Nerdy.) There is not a day when you are not on my mind or in my heart. I have a feeling you will always be, even if you don't know it yet. ----------22 About The Author Precious Noemi P. is a visually impaired girl from Chelsea, Massachusetts with a passion for singing and writing, she is a published author. Born in Boston, Massachusetts, she has faced difficult encounters with people who do not understand the term "blind." Precious always says: "It's not blindness, it's a blessing, and its part of who I am, God made me this way for a reason." She refuses to let her visual impairment get in the way of anything. She can do everything everyone else can do, and does not take "No" for an answer or let anyone tell her otherwise.