my eyes and say he loved me with such warmth that I couldn't help believing.
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From the first time we touched, he dominated my thoughts. I would try to concentrate on school, church, my family or my other friends, but it was no use. I would tell myself over and over again that he wasn't the kind of guy I needed in my life, but with each passing day, I only wanted him more. I felt so out of control, so scared and so excited. I would fall asleep at night thinking about his kisses and wake up in the morning with his soft, magical words ringing in my ears. Sometimes when I was near him I trembled. Then, he would put his arms around me and I would relax and feel safe again.
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My instincts were in constant conflict. Trust him. Don't trust him. Kiss him. Don't kiss him. Call him. Don't call him. Tell him how you feel. No, it will scare him off . And then finally I would wonder if maybe that would be the very best thing that could happen.
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If he was scared or insecure, I only saw it once or twice. Like the rest of his emotions, I could never tell how much was an act for my benefit and how much he really felt. He fascinated me. I would stare into his brown eyes and wonder if he had any idea how much control he had over me. If he knew, he never let it show.
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Then, one day it all came crashing down around me. He was gone and, as I hurt, I wondered if he had ever really loved me. I had so many questionsand so much to tell him. It was like an alarm had gone off too soon and now my dream was over. He was gone, and all that was left of all we had shared were a few letters and some memories that I was too proud to dwell on. My heart cried out for him, but my mind warned me to move on. In the end, that is what I did.
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I learned more from David than from any other guy, with the single exception of my father. When the time and the strength finally came, I was forced to take those
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