A love story, a life story, MY story.

I grew up an only child, raised by my sweet but overprotective mother. We lived in a two-story apartment, sharing the downstairs with another resident. We had a lot of financial help from my grandparents, who became second parents to me as I grew up. They took care of me while my mom was working, and I spent a lot of my time in before care and after care at schools and camps. I didn't mind the extra hours with friends though because I had lots of them. People have always told me that I'm beautiful, strong, and an overall friendly and big-hearted person. What these people don't know is that I have a lot of pain in my heart, always have.

Growing up as an only child brought a lot of [unanswered] questions to my mind. Where was my father? WHO was my father? Why wasn't he here raising me, teaching me to play softball, and making me laugh when I'm sad? Why did all the other girls have a father and I only a mother?

As a little girl, I asked these questions innocently, and I asked them in more detail and concern/anger as I grew older. I've always been curious about him, but the truth is, a lot of my questions still aren't answered.

I met him once when I was five. We spent the day together, the three of us. We got a bite to eat, and he left later that night without even saying goodbye to me. I was constantly hoping and waiting for his call. I wanted to know him, no matter how much he hurt my mother and I.

But like I said, I was very young, so my mind was easily distracted. I chased boys around the soccer field, went swimming with my friends in the summer, and always succeeded with my grades in school. I was trouble in the sense that I was always having fun: laughing, playing, and joking in school, out of school, everywhere. I have always been a free spirit despite my rough and confusing childhood, which is why many people call me strong. I respect those people for looking past all my faults and recognizing how I really have been strong all the 15 going on 16 years of my life.

When I was seven years old, my mom began seriously dating a man named Chuck. Chuck was an OK guy. He was an artist, a free spirit, much like me. I loved to look at the art he painted in restaurants around the city. He gave me piggy back rides, took me to get ice cream, everything. He was a cool guy.

That summer, my mom and Chuck decided it was time to move, so we did. The three of us got a really nice house and a nice neighborhood and were happy for quite awhile.

It was difficult for me to start a new school, but since we moved in the summer, I got a chance to get to know my future classmates at a local summer camp. A camp we swam, played tennis, and had an overall great time.

I became good friends with a girl named Rachel, and I even had a crush on a boy named John. Even though John like Rachel, I always tried to get his attention because I thought he was oh-so cute.

One day, a day I remember very well even though it was years ago, John approached me.
"Hey, Sophia!" he said. He was a year my senior, so I was lucky he even said one word to me.
"Oh, hey, John!" I replied eagerly.
"Do you see that boy over there?" he asked as he pointed to a round-faced boy with sun spots sitting in the back of the line.
"Yeah.." I replied.
"That's Jack. He likes you!" John laughed as he said this and quickly ran back over to Rachel.

After John left, I kept looking back over at Jack, studying him. He hung out with John, but Jack wasn't that attractive. However, I was drawn to him. Even though John said Jack liked me, Jack never showed it. He didn't chase after me or even smile in my direction. He was a mystery the day I met him, and he still is to this day.

I began waving goodbye to him, and he waved back.

I returned home each day to Chuck and my mom. Chuck liked to drink a lot. What was up with my mom and men who drank? My father drank too, or so she told me when I was nine. I guess my mom was drawn to the "bad boy" type of men?

Anyways, summer ended and so did my interest in Jack. I knew that school would start soon, so I quickly forgot about him, John, and Rachel. I guess I just assumed they went to different schools.

On the first day, I remember immediately spotting someone familiar to me, which was rare since it was a new school. It was Jack. He was sitting next to a blonde girl, who I later found out was his cousin. I passed them each day. I think he saw me, too.

I felt a little bit of jealousy each time I passed Jack and his cousin, Nadia. I wished so badly to be in his class, but I wasn't in "Gifted", which was like special Ed for smart people.

Little did I know that I'd be accepted into Gifted at the end of the year, and I'd have classes with him for many, many years to come. And as I spent more time with him, I'd slowly unravel his mystery.

I kissed him that year at the age of eight. I was his first kiss and I his.

It was a warm spring day. He was playing soccer with his friends, and I had the sudden eight-year-old urge to jump on his back and kiss him right on the lips. He and I clearly remember that kiss to this day.

Also around the same time, Chuck left. I remember Chuck and my mom fighting constantly, and my mom even accused him of cheating. But one day when I came home from school, he just wasn't there. We were left with his collections, an engagement ring, and a house we couldn't afford.

We moved out about a month later into a smaller condo. This time it was my mom, me, and 2 dogs that took up a lot of our money but made us happy, so we kept Pumpkin and Rudy.

My mom and I became really close that year. I was forced to start yet another new school away from Jack and my friends because we were no longer in the school's district.

At my new school, I made new friends, which as I mentioned earlier, came easy to me.

My grandparents moved near us, and I, once again, spent much of my time with them.

Soon though, my mom and I wouldn't need their help because that year, on St. Patrick's Day, my mom met someone, Ryan. He didn't drink, he treated her right, and he loved her with all of his heart.

My mom was reluctant to let him into our lives. In fact, she didn't even mention she had a daughter until they became serious because she didn't want anther man to hurt me, especially since I still had pain for my father, as I always will.

When Ryan met me, he was nothing but sweet. He brought me flowers and asked me about school.

He proposed to my mother the summer before I entered the fourth grade, and they married just before school started. This meant another new house, new school, and a new lifestyle, one I wasn't used to because now.. I had a dad, who wou,d adopt me in November of 2011.

But guess what? I was back to school with Jack that year. He was in my 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th grade classes. Each year we matured more and more and became closer and closer, but he always had that mystery about him that I could never quite understand.

In the sixth grade, a new boy came to school. His name was Joseph, and there was an instant connection between us. Joseph could make me smile no matter what kind of day I was having.

Joseph, Jack, and I became the best of friends, and of course, I was in love with both of them. I was comfortable with Jack, but Joseph could always put me in a good mood, which made me always wanting to be around them.

In eighth grade, we all grew up for sure. People started having long term boyfriends, making judgements of people, and discovering who their true friends were. But no matter what, I always had either Jack or Joseph by my side. Because of this, I lost a lot of my girl friends and was easily distracted from my inner pain.

I liked this new lifestyle though. I liked chasing after them and being with them 24/7, but what I didn't know was that this was a form of me pushing people away.

As soon a is realized this, I slowly pulled away from Jack, Joseph, and all of my other good friends, and I began hanging with the wrong crowd. I didn't do drugs or drink, but I lowered my standards for guys. So basically, I dated a lot of jerks. I even told Joseph I'd show him my boobs for a kiss!

To other people, I was a totally different person. But really, I was the same person who was having trouble recognizing, coping with, and understanding my internal pain.. Toward my father.

Jack noticed how I changed, but he also knew what was really going on. He knew all about my father, and my pain. He didn't always acknowledge our mutual understanding of each other in front of "the guys" because he was still a teenage boy who didn't like to get emotional in front of his friends.

I was okay with this because when we were alone, he REALLY listened. One time, we walked to an ice cream place after school and just talked for two hours. I told him about my mixed feelings for Joseph, my anger towards my mom for being so overprotective, everything. He was my best friend, maybe not in school, but out of school, he really, really cared.