Love. The woman this word pertained to did not use it lightly. She did not sling it about carelessly. Every time it spilled from her lips, it was meant. Meant and put forth with deep heart felt emotion. What little of love she could understand was imbedded in her meanings. When she said that word, it was as if she was holding greased china. Held carefully in her mouth before she let it slip on to what she hoped would be a cushion of understanding ears.

The first time she was to use this word and understand its depth was in her 6th year of school.

She walked through the playground. Well not so much a playground as middle schoolers abandoned the thought of play grounds. Disregarding them as "things for children" which they neglected to think they still were.

As she strolled through the gravel-strewn sidewalk, she noticed a small, sad looking girl. As she approached her, she noticed the girl was crying. The tears seemed to fall unbeknownst to the producer of such sadness. Or she was wrong. A hand came up to wipe away the salty sadness she guessed, in hopes of fooling herself that it could disappear as the tear had.

She knelt at her sitting position and the girl looked up rather sadly. "What do you want." She stated flatly. The kneeling girl looked into her sad eyes and said what any 11 year old would ask a crying girl. "What's wrong?" The crying girl looked up at her at what seemed like surprise that even when he was at her weakest, this small questioning girl was not attempting to worsen her situation or kick her while she lie helpless. She was stunned.

"My friends…they…they left me…" This sentence spilled forth with little shyness. At her outburst, the girl blushed and looked down with more tears slipping from her eyes in self realization. The kneeling girl took advantage and sat with the girl questioning deeper into the roots of her sadness. The small girl sadly explained her predicament. Explaining how she was stabbed in the back so early in life. How she trusted people deeply and how it was torn out and thrown back at her. How she suffered.

That is how it began.