The story of me and a boy from home

His name is James, and I was completely in love with him. Part of me thinks I always will be. Even now if he were here with me, right next to me, I would be so.... God.

I never kissed him, not once, though I wanted to more than anything. I dont know if its because he's straight or I 'm not what he wants(if he's not straight) , or there was always miscomunitcation. He's the typical bad boy, drinks too much, smokes WAY too much, swears too much. But there were, are, moments when the dialogue between us seemed to open up, there were moments when the image us waking up together on Sunday morning seemed so...so perfect.

I would still do so many things for him. Is It wrong to love someone who hurt me so much? There's still things that he and I need to talk about, so much left unsaid. Too much, not enough. Broken hearts, first loves. I still wonder if he really was my first love. And if he was, will I ever stop loving him?

Story of he and I plays out a little bit like an episode of Degrassi(not that I ever watched Degrassi). There were things said, things done, regretable actions made, but his life and mine, seem to be linked and will be for a very long time. I dont know if its good or bad, but it is what it appears to be.