It was on the night of a choir concert that I realized it. I didn't know how much of a surprise to me it actually was, but it made me extremely happy.

We were all in the large performing arts center trying not to nap through the drawling middle school songs. Unbearable wide vowels and inconsistent movements were the only things keeping me from tuning out; the annoyances that I couldn't help but notice. After an eternity we were in stage, in our billowy purple robes, things I called "ungodly colored church gospel singer" attire.

I didn't look at him. I couldn't. Not only did I not know where he was but I wasn't going to miss my cue, not even for him.

The conductor started conducting, the musician started playing, and we started singing. One song after another we sang, only sounding remotely close to good because of the choirs before us. Minor screw ups here and there, an off-beat clap from me. We were done.

I still didn't look for him. I didn't know where in the sea of faces his would be found. I walked off stage as he stood up to get on. Eagerly looking for him on the risers I quickly located the long haired boy. Only wanting to look at him I looked elsewhere. Not wanting to be caught staring over powered my want to only watch him, but as the music started and he began singing my eyes couldn't help but be locked on him. Although there was no passion for any of the songs on his face I could see it in his body. His tapping foot, his bobbing head, the way he leaned in towards the conductor. I was almost starstruck.

As soon as it was time for him to start it was time for him to stop. Not wanting to make eye contact I moved my eyes elsewhere. The last choir went up, the best one in the high school, but I didn't pay attention to it. All I could think about was him.

We were soon excused and I went to the robe room as fast as I could, anticipating to see him outside the building. After putting my robe away I tried rushing outside but was soon stopped by an acquaintance from my choir. She asked if I was dating him. I answered truthfully, yes, and all she did was say congratulations to which I said thanks and quickly went on my way. That seemed odd but I pushed it off.

After getting outside I waited with my ride home, my grandma. I looked everywhere for him but he was nowhere. After the flood of people dwindled slightly we decided to leave, wanting to beat traffic.

I was very upset about not seeing him. I had the whole thing planned out; I would catch a glimpse of him in the mass of people and quickly run up to him and engulf him in a surprise hug. I would tell him how amazing he was and hug him again before offering him a ride home, and if he had time dessert at my house. My dream shattered as we pulled into our driveway without him.

Going inside the house I changed, got dessert, did my homework and went to bed. Time and time again I closed my eyes and told myself to sleep, but it never came to me. All I could do was think about him, what I would say to him the next day, reminiscing about fond memories from years ago.

Then something else came to mind; all of my future was planned with him in it. I couldn't imagine a day where I didn't see him. My heart clenched at the thought at us not being together. Even just the word "like" was unenjoyable. I paused with that thought. Why was this a word I suddenly hated? Then it dawned on me. It was because I felt a different "l" word. This boy who I had known for seven years was never unsuccessful in having a friend relationship with me. During the seventh year he made it an awkward but cute romance. Four months later I realized something. This quiet, awkward teenage boy did something no on else had ever had the opportunity to do; he captured my heart. He made me do something I had never, ever done before, he made me love someone, truly love someone. That someone was him. I, as a 15 year old high school freshman, was in love with with him. He was the boy who held my heart.