Awful experiences where everyone tries to sum up years of a life into an hour of remembrance, where everyone sheds tears, where it's "acceptable" to lose it, where your heart slowly breaks over and over again, where it never seems enough to honor the dead, where the living all fruitlessly try to comfort each other, and where I least wish I had been today.

(Unfortunately, I was actually at a funeral earlier today.)

He used to make me nervous. I was always so worried about what he'd think of me. He made my palms sweat and made me constantly obsess over what I'd say or do. Then, he made me feel higher than the clouds. He made me feel like a light bulb, shining from the inside out. He made me feel invincible and incredible. And then everything changed. And now. Now, he makes me feel stupid. He makes me wish I could rewind time and live in those few happy months. He makes me feel unwanted and unloved. He makes me feel lower than I've felt in two years. And yet, I still love him. Funny heart, causing emotions and shit.

I remember the first time I really liked a boy, and asking myself if this was what love was supposed to feel like. Now, having experienced it, I can say without a doubt that it was not, in fact, love. When you love a friend or a family member, it should mean that you wouldn't change them and that you'd put their happiness over your own.

Love in a relationship is different. When you're in love with someone, it should be all-consuming and overwhelming. True love cannot be measured. You can't decide if you love someone by a checklist you find online or by a friend telling you that you love them. Love shouldn't be cheap, and you should save that word to preserve its meaning. Truly loving someone means looking at them and seeing them all: good, bad, and ugly. It means knowing their faults, and accepting them and loving them because without those faults, your love just wouldn't be the same and you wouldn't' want to change them in the slightest. Truly loving someone means being able to be open and honest with them. Truly loving someone means wanting to share everything with that person, from the huge events in your life to the little things about your day. Truly loving should never be a choice or a decision. If it's love, you'll know without a shadow of a doubt, whether you've loved anyone before or not.

True love is where you can't keep a smile off of your face when you think about them. True love is wanting to spend every minute of every day together (but not actually doing that.) When you're in love with someone, you get this warm and fuzzy feeling in your tummy. You'll feel like someone flipped a switch and now there's a lightbulb inside of you that's shining as bright as a sun through your every pore. You'll miss them when they're gone, and if it ends between you two, it will crush you.

The reality of love is that there's true love, but there's other kinds of love too. There's puppy love, and dark and twisted love, and friendly love, and familial love. There's love for God, for your country, and for inanimate objects. With true love, you'll never see it coming, but you'll know before you ever expect to be in love with them.

Of course I believe in soulmates. I've seen it, and I believe that I've found mine. I also believe that you don't have to choose to be with your soulmate, and I think you can be happy with someone other than your soulmate. I know this couple, named Harry and Irene. They are my heroes, and they give me hope.

Harry and Irene were high school sweethearts, but they broke up after they graduated for reasons unknown. They both moved on, got married, had children, had failed marriages, and go divorced. They happened to reconnect, and now they have been happily married for five years. And the love between them is still so intense that you can feel it just sitting with them. It's not uncomfortable at all, it actually gives me a warm feeling inside. The way that they look at each other makes you grateful that you're there just to experience what that's supposed to be like. They appreciate each other and communicate. They do activities together and apart. They trust each other. And they always say "I love you."

They're my inspiration because one day, I want to have a love like theirs. I truly believe that I've found my soulmate. He's my rock. He was my best friend before we ever started dating, and I could always count on him. I trust him explicitly and I confided in him more that I had ever confided in anyone. We had inside jokes and could communicate without ever speaking a word. We would be totally content doing dishes or cooking together, or even studying together, just because we were in each others' presence. I could literally feel his pain, and he could feel mine. We aren't together right now, for reasons outside of the two of us, but I have faith that we'll get back together. Harry and Irene give me that hope.

He was eighteen, and awkward as all hell. He was sweet, and treated me right from the very beginning. Our first "date" was to the drive-in movie theater where he worked, while he was working so I wouldn't have to be home alone while our moms went out. He would give me candy and gum and little things to make me smile. We went hiking together, and then went swimming/cliff jumping at the lake. We would watch movies together, and from July to September it was perfect. Awkward, but sweet and perfect in the sense that I wouldn't change anything about it. I loved him before I even realized it.

But like all good things, it had to end. Our sweet, casual, summer fling ended September 15th. That was when his dad passed away, and our casual, innocent, and un-strained relationship suddenly took a turn for the serious. We were in a relationship for four months after that, until New Years. Sadly, that was the end of me and Lee. I still love him. He'll always have my heart.

Pain. My life has had several kinds of pain. There was the pain as a child, the kind of pain that came from a paper cut or scraping my knee. Then there was the pain of abandonment, from my father, my grandparents, and at times, my older brothers. Then there was the pain of my first love. I gave my heart to the wrong person, who didn't ask for it, who didn't want it, and who definitely didn't handle it with care.

There was the physical pain of self harm. But even worse was the emotional pain that came from cutting myself. In the last six months, I've experienced pain unlike anything I had known before. I've experienced the pain of loving someone and having their parent constantly try to trash that. I've experienced the pain of my first loved one passing away. I've experienced the constant pain of not having closure about that death and the pain of having to watch as their spouse continues to disrespect them, even in death. I've experienced the pain of watching someone I loved change before me and cave into their controlling and narcissistic mother.

I've experienced the pain of losing a relationship with the boy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I've experienced the pain of mourning that relationship. I've experienced the pain of trying to move on in a small town. I've experienced the pain of seeing an ex move on, which hurts, even if you're not together anymore.

Pain is no stranger to me. I've known pain well, but still not as well as some.

Meet Depression. She's ancient, and everyone knows her. She's haunted us all at one point or another. Me and Depression? We're close. We've been tight for three years. Depression has been an interesting friend. She's introduced me to new experiences. She's taught me new hobbies, like cutting. She's introduced me to her friends Pain, Anxiety, and Hopelessness. But because of Depression, I've bonded with a lot of people.

I've made real friends because we had the mutual friendship of Depression. I've been able to help others through their friendships with Depression because of my own. I know her well. Depression changed my life. She gave me a direction. Because of Depression, I want to be a child (teen) psychologist, to help others through their affairs with Depression.

If it weren't for Depression, I'd be an entirely different person. I'd be weaker, having not been pushed to the limits of my strength time and time again. I'd probably still want to go to law school. I'd been a lot more selective about my friends. I'd be a lot more shallow. I wouldn't be able to relate to people that have been through all kinds of pain, if I had never met Depression. But lately, I've felt that Depression has only been dragging me down. I've been distancing myself from her, and I'm starting to feel better. I hope you all eventually have the strength to push Depression away. She'll eat at you if you let her.