I don’t know how long this will last, this fling between me and him. Maybe it’s just for the summer. Maybe he’ll leave at the beginning of September, when I have to go back to school, and I’ll never see him again. He’ll leave as the boy who knows everything about me, but the boy I know nothing about.

Then again, maybe he’ll stay. He’ll keep every promise. He’ll stay with me, as the boy who I trust, for some reason, with all my heart. We’ll be together for longer than both of us expected.

I can only guess what’s going to happen. We don’t talk about the future, only the past. More specifically, my past. I still know nothing about him. Like with many other parts of our relationship, I can only guess. I don’t even know if I can call it a relationship. It has to be something. I can tell by the way he makes me feel every time I see him, every time were together, every time he touches me, every time our eyes meet, and every time he smiles.


I feel butterflies in my stomach, and my voice gets caught in my throat. My knees become week, every time. All I can see, hear, and feel is him. Every time he’s there, it’s the same.

It seems like he needs to know everything about me. He asks for every little detail. He asks everything, my favorite color, my last boyfriend, my favorite places to be, my favorite thing to do, my favorite food, my worst fear, and my biggest regret. There are people, like my mother and my best friend, who I’ve known all my life and I tell them just about everything. I’ve known him for only a few weeks, and he already knows just as much as them, if not more. He might just know me better than anyone else. And that scares me.

He knows about the crush I had on my ninth grade biology lab partner. He knows about the time I threw up in a dressing room after eating too many blue slush’s with my friends. He knows that I’m secretly terrified of fish. He knows I’ve never seen snow before, but I want to more than anything. He knows I could sit by the pool for hours, reading geeky science fiction novels, and drinking iced tea.

He told me his name. He told me he's staying just a few houses down from mine. He told me he’s only supposed to be here for the summer. And that’s it. That’s everything he’s told me since we've meet.

Everything else I know, I learned by watching, just by being with him. I learned his eyes are the color of the ocean during the day, and the color of the forest at night. He’s un-humanly gorgeous. I know he gets embarrassed easily. I know he loves to smile and be happy, but only when there’s no one else around. It takes a lot to impress him. He hates talking about himself. His family is a sore spot. He has a terrible temper, and can get very violent. If he’s in a bad mood you can’t mess with him. When he’s upset he doesn’t like to talk about it. He will just sit in silence until he gets over it. He can also be very gentle, and sweet. He has a lot of secrets He likes to make me happy.

Most of what I know about him, I learned by simply observing.

And every minute since that Fourth of July, under the fireworks, my world revolves more and more around him. The more I slowly learn, the more intense my feelings become.

I don’t know what I’m going to do at the end of the summer. I don’t know how he feels about it. I don’t know what I’ll do if he goes and I don’t know what I’ll do if he stays.