at the age of 9, i'm sure i love M. she smiles at me and when no one looks, she kisses me. i thought i knew love.

but M knew someone else. i wander off when M disappears from the friend group one day. i find her behind one of the houses, lips locked with someone else's, someone older.

i felt betrayed. i ran off and i sulked. was it my age? was i too young? i am just a kid, after all.

the day goes by and M doesn't mention the stolen kiss. she doesn't notice my sorrow.

time moves in that nonexistent way it does, and M's room is packed and in a truck that has a destination set states away. i visit her one last time in a run down motel with a single wall. behind that wall we share long kisses and keep an open ear for adults.

she gives me her bright yellow shirt with a cartoon character on it and i cry. she leaves.

days later i spend time with my cousin, a cousin who'd accompany me and M a lot. she smiles at me sadly and hugs me.

"you loved her, didn't you?" she whispered to me sadly. i cried that day, thinking i knew the answer.