There have been many mixed emotions in our house. It seems things have been stuck in a state of flux.

Juliette's cheeks have grown rosier and her eyes brighter, but she has not told anyone why, not even Lenny.

Lenny has been over the moon for Erik. She is a novice to love, though.

Her feelings have given her so much confidence, with little room to breathe, and I feel she is overwhelmed with her new tenacious attitude, yet no one has sat her down to tell her the specifics of love and what to watch out for.

Erik seems like a nice enough young man, but looks alone are not the sole expression of one's character or intentions.

Jude has lost control.

He has become unhinged, but he keeps his sorrows and pain hidden and closed up tightly within him. I know what that feeling can do to someone, and I wish there was a way I could help him.

Andy has started to press his snooze button more often than he usually does.

I have seen him roll over, with an almost inaudible moan escaping him, and squeeze his eyes shut, not wanting to wake up, bringing his pillow up to his chest, and holding it there firmly.

The flow of our house has changed immensely.

Everyone is going about their days as if nothing has changed about them, but they have, each of them as people, they have changed.

I have come to believe that if someone does not take the time to acknowledge those changes within themselves, even the slightest ones, they will somehow be faced with them in an unwanted manner.

I tried to deny my feelings once, and those feelings broke my heart in the end.

I was about nine years old when my heart was first captured by another person.

She was messing about in my backyard. I was just about to come up behind her and shout at her to go away, but as the distance between us lessened and I could hear her singing to herself as she gathered up some wildflowers in her hands, my heart started to thud for a whole other reason altogether.

Her young and spirited voice fixed me to that spot just a few feet away from her. All I could see was the back of her body, but that was enough. I knew right then she was the girl for me.

Long black curls went down past her waist. Her skin was the color of black tea that had been stirred with milk, just the way my mother enjoyed it.

Her elbows were rough and had little scratches on them, and she also had a large bruise on the back of her thigh, but I had thought nothing of it at the time. I just admired her and thought to myself that she must be one of those girls that loved to have an adventure. I was right about that.

She sensed someone or something was behind her and she turned around quickly, frightened.

I stepped backward and blinked my eyes at her. I had never seen anyone like her before.

I actually set one of my hands on my chest at the sight of her. I had thought my heart had stopped beating, but of course, it hadn't. Not then. It was just a flutter, of the first love kind.

She was the first to speak. Her voice was just as lovely as when she was singing.

"Who are you?"

"I live here, with my momma." I pointed to my brick house behind me.

"Oh, sorry, I've been back here before and ain't seen no one."

I nodded and looked down at my dirty shoes. They were getting old. My mother and I would have to get new ones soon, once she got her paycheck from the department store next week.

"We're pretty quiet. My momma doesn't play music real loud or anything."

"Oh." She looked down at the wildflowers in her hand and bit her bottom lip.

She looked up at me then and I smiled. Her eyes were just as dark as her hair.

I shrugged and told her, "You can have as many wildflowers as you like. I don't mind."

She smiled then, too. A crooked little smile, framed with lips the same color of her skin only with a pink hue about them. I was brave and took a few steps toward her, carefully.

She reminded me of a doe I had come across on one of my many walks a few summers ago. I had spotted her behind a family of trees. I was sure not to make a noise as I selected each step toward her. I wanted to approach slowly, because I did not want her to run away.

I did not want such beauty to run away from me again.

"My name is Daniel Callahan. Nice to meet you," I put my hand out for her to shake.

She dusted the dirt off her hands onto the front of her light yellow dress, and as we shook hands I saw how pale and white, like the moon, my skin appeared when in contrast to the light brown, like the back of a fallen leaf, of her skin.

"My name is Luz Alvarez."

"Come again," I tilted my head.

"Names like mine aren't really heard that much 'round here, huh? Most people just call me Lucy."

"Well, nice to meet you, Lucy," I gave her hand a small squeeze and squinted as the sun beat down on our faces.

"What was that song you were singin'?"

"I was singin' a song?"

"Yeah. Before you turned around and saw me."

"Oh," her hands got lost in the stems of the wildflowers beneath her again,"I didn't know I was singin'. I just make up songs most times. Half the time I don't know what I'm singin' about."

I helped her pick some flowers and put them in her hand. Our hands touched for only a second and my heart skip a beat again.

"Whatever you were singin', it sounded pretty."

"Thank you," she grinned, her eyes thin slits under the bright sky. "You're kinda funny-lookin', you know that?"

Honestly, I was. At nine years old I was lanky and awkward. All limbs and knobby knees. My thick red hair had not yet learned how to tame itself and my pale skin reddened and freckled under the summer sun.

I stood up straight as she inspected me, head to toe.

She furrowed her fine brows and said, resolutely, "You have real good eyes, though. Honest and blue like the ocean. Though I've never actually seen the ocean before."

I gave her a wide and toothy smile and dipped my head down. It was simply too much for me to look in her eyes for so long.

Suddenly, she let go of her handful of wildflowers and shouted, "Wanna chase me?"

Before I could answer her, she ran off giggling, her dark hair swaying to and fro behind her. Her yellow dress danced in the breeze and I rushed after her and ran and ran and ran.

She was so fast. I did not want her to get away from me, though, so I tried my best to keep up.

I did not know this back then, but in those moments, as I was chasing Lucy around my backyard, I was starting to fall in love with her.

A long string, tied at one end around my heart and tied at the other end around her heart, was being woven and tightened between us. It was a delicate string, but one willing to endure many tugs and stretches.

And that is how I imagine the Wakelins below me as I travel beneath the ceiling above them. They are each tied to one another. They are each connected in a powerful and perfect way.

I hope none of them ever underestimates or loses sight of the fact that they are forever connected. They belong to each other first and foremost.

They are loved simply because they are what love is.

A/N:

Hello, dear reader

Finally, Daniel begins to share his story of first love...
What did you think of Lucy?

If you wish, share in the comments how you fell in love.

I want to share a song with you (attached above)---one that tugs and tugs on my heart strings--- a live performance of "In These Arms" by The Swell Season.

Love is complicated and beautiful. It's why we do many of the things we do---it comforts and empowers us just as much as it hurts and reminds us how fragile we are.

True love isn't like what is in fairy tales---true love takes you on a journey through life with your mate, yes, but then, afterwards, another journey begins, within yourself, to prove to your mate and, most importantly, yourself that you are still the person deserving and destined to have the love that was chosen just for you.

Call me a sap, I can take it.
Writing this story just puts me there.

<3

Thank you for reading this long... If you have, comment a "<3", please.

XO,
Leanne