For so many years, I had a "boyfriend," well a school one anyway. We could never go out on dates because I had a strict father who didn't want me dating. My boyfriend was okay with not going out as long as we got to do normal coupley stuff at school. That's how we lasted for all those years; we kept it a secret from everyone who didn't see us at school.

Everyday without fail, he would hold my hand, tell me he loved me, and protect me from the dangers of middle school gym class and overzealous prepubescent boys. We were happy. Until my dad found out about us. I'm still not even sure how he did.

He wanted it to end; I had too much going for me in life and I didn't need a boy distracting me from that. My dad and I had so many fights about it. And when my dad died the summer before my freshman year of high school, I believed the stress of our constant fights were to blame.

I soon fell into a depression; I blamed myself for everything and I wished I could go back in time and change it. With my depression dominating me, I soon grew distant and cold towards everyone. Sometimes it was even too hard to get out of bed in the mornings and plaster a smile on my face, so I wouldn't. There were so many times I wanted to kill myself, but I couldn't. So I would burn myself one spot at a time until I felt better.

I knew I was hurting my boyfriend when I wouldn't show up for school or answer a text message or tell him what I was thinking, but I didn't care. He never stopped loving me though, I couldn't understand why. We soon started having more problems when my mom found out that we were still together.

She wasn't enthused about us. She had become a mom too young and she missed out on having a good life, and she didn't want that for me. My younger brother was having a hard time after everything that had happened and he soon started getting into a lot of trouble. We were kicked out of our home and forced to move to my overly protective grandparents' after all of my brother's incidents.

I didn't even tell my boyfriend that I was moving. I didn’t want to hold him back from having a life too when I knew we would never last; too many people were against our relationship. I quickly vanished out of his life and he would always ask my friends about me. I soon lost contact with them after a few months and it hurt me so much to stay away.

It was an uphill battle that I wasn't even sure I wanted to keep fighting. Soon my depression got better as I made new friends and stopped fighting with my family over my relationship.

I'm still not 100% over him, but I don't think I ever will be. He was my first love. I do still think about him from time to time and I check on him on social media. Thankfully he has moved on to better things and now has a new girl to send his love to. I just wish it was still me.