The sun light is high and it’s rays burn down upon us. He lays on the high grass, the ground making a imprint of his body underneath him. I look over as the light catches his features, his eyes turn a hazel green.  His hair – a distinct light brown that curls on his forehead. As he reaches for my hand, he smiles at me.  I realize that I want our time to last for lifetimes.  It was June, when he told me one night that I was his favorite person in the whole galaxy. He told me that he would always be there for me. The stars had seemed to glow even brighter that night. The heat wave began the first week of August. When she bumped into him and smiled, I knew our summer was being pulled into the tides. He left quietly and quickly like a robber in the night. I was no longer the star to his moon because he had found the sun. August was radiant and carefree. She was beautiful and bright. Her hair was a platinum white with highlights of honey. He chose her, but I should have expected that. But, I know him. I know how he dances in his sweatshirt to make me feel better. I would know when he looked at me from across the room and most importantly I knew he would eventually come back to me.  My mother told me I knew nothing of true love because I am too young and naive. I begin to wonder whether the age we fall in love truly matters at all. Will it hurt more, will it hurt less, or will it even hurt at all? The beauty of living is the unknown, but the truth is love really does exists all around. All I know for certain is that he came back to me and the heart I possess is happy to finally be back home. To finally be back to him.