Falling Out of Love
Photo by Drew Hays on Unsplash I remember the first time I saw him. I was fifteen. He was dancing, teaching the steps, and his every move was poetry in motion. I wanted to impress him, wanted to show him I could dance too. And even though the steps were simple and repetitive, it was soon clear to everyone that I was a great dancer. I wanted to spend every moment staring at him, drinking in his absolutely perfect features. He was so handsome, like the princes you dream about when watching Disney movies, but never actually meet in real life. He was charming, he was friendly, he popped his collars and wore wraparound shades. There was just one problem - he was nine years older. I've often said that the only older guy worth dating is the one that isn't interested in you. And he was one of those guys. And much happened in those months that we spent together that convinced me that he might actually like me the way I liked him....