Loving isn't easy.
I knew that from the moment I had my eyes on him.
I remembered the first concert I had managed to go to.
How we first met.
How he held my hands and gave me a rose, among the crowd, telling me he was mine. It was a fan moment, then.
Purely that and nothing else, or its what I thought.
He told me there itself, "Your pretty.......like all sparkles"
I took it, grabbed it, and gobbled it down.
Then I went to the fan meet. He signed for me, held me in his gaze, and almost very softly, with the sharp end of his pencil, wrote down "Your number"
I didn't wanna give it to a stranger, but it was him.
It was Yolo asking me, so I didn't say anything.
My lips parted, hesitating.
I was seventeen, eighteen purely after few more days.
When I was going to deny, I noticed.
