What is this painful feeling in my chest? Why does it hurt more when I see her face? Why do I want her hand wrapped around mind? Why do I long for one of her tight hugs? Why haven’t I felt this before? Is this what it feels like to love? Is this what it feels like to care for someone deeply? To want them? To want to be held? Is this Love? The pain in my chest? The want for her fingers to tightly grasp mine and never let go? Is this Love? We’re all those elementary crushes just lies that I told myself? Just to fit in? Where was the pain in my heart? Where were the constant thoughts? Is this really what Love is? The pain? The thoughts? The loss of focus? The feeling of emptiness? Is this really what Love is? Not just a feeling or something you say or write down, but a silent plea for help. A silent cry for help. A silent cry waiting to be answered. Waiting to be answered by a hug. A reassurance. A silent cry. Love is a silent cry. Some are answered; some are left to die. This is Love.