My Polar Bear

I call him My Polar Bear. We're dating now. We met in 8th grade when I said something and he called me biased. I knew then, when he called me biased, that I wanted to be his friend. Then he texted me. I was so excited about this boy, who called me biased, texting me and wanting to be my friend. We started with small talk, talking about music. He had a very different taste from I. He willingly listened to the screaming metal I preferred and I listened to the honest raps he liked. He was hanest and told me what he thought of my favorite songs. Soon I found myself venturing away from my usual taste of music, listening to music by NF. I talked to him every day.

He is honest and kind and intelligent. I love that about him. He's stubborn and cute and a bit goofy at times. Within a few weeks I desperately wanted him to like me. I wanted him to at least have a crush on me, even if it meant that he liked me while I love him. Even if it meant him breaking my heart. He had this dorky looking picture of himself and gosh it's amazing.

I wished then, and I wish now, that i could take my fingers and run them through his hair. I wished then and I wish now that I could gaze into his eyes for eternity. I remember in 6th grade all the girls had crushes and they'd write their crush's name down inside a heart and draw thousands of hearts around it. I never did that in 6th grade. Nor 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, or even 7th grade. But I did in 8th grade. When I met this boy.

I love him because he has this way of making me feel accepted, even when I can't accept myself. I love him because he has the most amazing personality. I love him because he is him and doesn't change himself for me or anyone. I love him because he is patient and calm and sweet.

I love him. My Polar Bear