We don’t always choose who we fall in love with.
It just so happened that I fell in love over a box of crayons and a smile.

Growing up, it was always the three of us: Elijah Donahue, with his genius IQ and a smile he only shared with me. Our best friend, Aaron Esposito, with his crystal-blue eyes and a smile he shared with everyone. And me, Stella McCarty, the girl with the chapped lips and unruly hair. Then we grew apart, which is putting it mildly.

I felt the loss, though my heart belonged to Elijah and his to me.

When my father passed away, we grew back together again. I couldn’t have gotten through that time if not for the both of them. But then, when I graduated from college and moved back home from London, it became obvious that I had been oblivious to the fact that they had never stopped hating one another.

Elijah and Aaron’s hate for one another had apparently been hindered by their love for me.
Only, I didn’t know that they both loved me in the same way.
And I wished I never did.

Love isn’t supposed to feel like this.
It isn’t supposed to hurt.