the effects of lacking teenage romance꩜⋆.°⭑

Sometimes I regret not having a teenage love...

The type that makes you giddy, passing notes in class, holding hands at lunch, the feeling that you'll stay with that person for the rest of your life even if it's doomed to not last. It's not like I didn't try—I had crushes. I remember doing those stupid little things for one of my best friends, who I was madly in love with, but I never had that relationship that everyone talks fondly about. The type to stick with you even in your 70s.

And now that I'm 22, I fear it's too late.

I did have a bit of a serious thing a few months ago. We lasted two months before my high standards caught up to me, and I left after the first red flag. Still, I could tell it was… different.

It's hard to explain, but it felt more mature. There weren't any sweet moments of naivety, of stupid giggles, of unexpected calls that run into three in the morning. No anticipating seeing him, at least not strongly. Maybe I didn't like him enough, but I genuinely fear I'll never get that book romance in any way.

I don't have a cute nerdy neighbor, or a stupidly kind girl in my class. I don't have any way of achieving a cheesy romance moment, and though it's not my priority, it's in the back of my mind constantly.

I want to have someone to write about in my diary, to draw in my sketchbook, to get that butterfly pit in my stomach when they text or I see them.
Dunno, maybe I'm speaking too soon.