Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always.

When boy likes you, you say no thank you. You don't kick him on the ground.

It feels strange to have spent much time wishing for something, for someone and then one day, suddenly, to just stop.

You never know the last time you’ll see a place. A person.

Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August. Winters are simply a time to count the weeks until the next summer

Maybe that was how it was with all first loves. They own a little piece of your heart, always.

Moments, when lost, can't be found again. They're just gone.