Young Love

Be careful of what you take for granted.

First, here are some things you should know about me. I’m eighteen years old, and I live with my parents out in the Piney Woods of Texas, a few miles from the closest town. My location is pretty remote, but I always loved the nature surrounding me and the thick forest that springs up above my home, a quaint, small cabin. I used to walk to school through the evergreens, enjoying the smell of fallen pine cones, and I had memorized the path to town by heart. I never felt scared of the woods, though maybe I should have been.

Back when I was fourteen, I met this girl in the eighth grade, let’s call her Jenny. She was beautiful, friendly, and the sweetest person I’d ever met. Most of all, I remember her laugh, a cute giggle that would grow into happy, uncontrollable laughter. It didn’t take me too long to ask her out, and pretty soon we were madly in love. She was the only person in my life who seemed to truly understand and care about me, and we would spend all of our time after schooldays together. We’d walk through those very same woods holding hands, just exploring, and doing what lovesick teens do. But our walks through the woods started eating into her studying, and her grades suffered as a result. We didn’t care though, too young and dumb to let anything like that come between us.

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