I met a girl in 6th grade. I loved her from the day i met her, and she had no idea for 3 years. We spent every day together for all of 8th grade, against the will of both of our parents, against our friends, and sometimes even against each other. It came to a point that our lives becaome singular, and we didn't even have anything to talk about, because we knew everything that was happening in each other's lives, and communicated simply through body language and mood. It was weird, but cool.

I was a good student back then. Top of my class of 300, class president, friends and diverse interests intact. I was studying hard for private high school entrance exams, and on way to one of the biggest Ivy League prep schools in the US-- Yes, that's a thing; get in and keep your grades up, you'd have to shit yourself during your interview to not get into the ivy school of your choice.

I got in. I got a great scholarship and my family could manage to afford it.

I gave it up. I stayed with her.

We broke up 2 years later. I hate myself for it to this day.