Our Last Summer

Today, I was listening to the ABBA song, "Our Last Summer". (great song by the way) And it sort of got me thinking about someone that I fell for, two summers ago. I've gotton over him, nonetheless, but the memory is sometimes harder to get over.
Just like the song, we shall call him Harry. Harry has redhair, likes to read every kind of book known demand, and wears glasses.
I remember when we first met, at the end of our freshman year. Many people hated him (they still do, by the way) and a lot of people thought I was nuts. I got the nerve to ask for his number on the day of our modern world final. We texted constantly after that, and I think that I even called him once, if memory serves me right.
Finally one day, in mid July, a friend sent him a message saying that I liked him. Miraclously, he liked me too, and we made a promise to stay single for each other, because he was a mormon, and wanted to follow the no-dating before turning sixteen rule.
We shared things that I never thought I could share to someone else, and for a while, we were happy. One day, he asked for space. And I gave it to him. When he came back from his space, he wanted to break up. After much resistance, I finally let Harry go.
Harry was the first person who I opened myself up to, and trusted completly. For a while, I was relunctant to do so again, and then I realized, I was not living. It's over now, no reason to move on.
I thought about this yesterday, while out with Christopher. We sat and talked, and I felt happy and bubbly. He made me smile, and for the first time, I guess I wasn't afraid to open myself for someone once again. It's a part of life, getting and losing love. It's all a game of give and take, and we've got to learn when to give, when to take and when to let go.
I will always remember and forgive Harry for our last summer. Now, it's time for my next summer.