This boy.

As we walked along the deserted road, I began to realize that this boy, made of sunshine, had stolen my heart. He had taken it, along with my thoughts. He had both in the palm of his hand. He would tug my fingers, not knowing what that did to my heart. Not knowing that fireworks would explode and butterflies would dance, whenever his skin grazed mine. He would look me in the eyes, a smile exploding. Not knowing what that did, not knowing that pulled my face into a smile. He would nudge my toes when my mom was annoying, trying to get me in trouble. Knowing she liked him better, not knowing sparks raced up my legs and tickled my belly. He would tackle me in the hallway, not knowing I almost fainted everytime. He never knew what he did to me. What his eyes, his smile, his touch, his laughter did to me. All he knew was that we were best friends. All he knew was that we were jokesters. All he knew was that my sisters had been in love with him, since they were two and we were ten. All he knew was that I would pull his hair, and he would touch my nose. All he knew was that he could call me when his boyfriend broke his heart. All he knew was that he could hug me when my sister died and then my grandma.