He was 12 years old when he understood the meaning of love. Or at least that’s what he thought. She was beautiful. Long chocolate brown hair and even prettier brown eyes. Her laugh always travelled to his desk, and he envied her best friend for making her laugh like this. All he wanted was her attention. To be with her.
He was 16 years old when he understood the meaning of heartbreak. She was still as beautiful, even with tearstains across her face. Her long brown hair now short and her eyes red from crying. To him she was just as beautiful. But he let her go. With her a piece of his heart.
He was 25 years old when he found the meaning of love again. Much stronger this time. He had blond short hair and a weird laugh that made him just more charming in his eyes. His eyes were full of passion and fire. For the first time in a while, he started to understand what it meant to love someone again, to want someone despite their flaws and mistakes. He understood what it meant to be content and happy together. They stayed like this till the end, in love and happy. Until his second and last heartbreak.