Oh that fateful day at the beach. We met again. This time we spoke a lot more. It was nice. Just plain nice. It just worked; we fitted like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. There was just one thing standing in the way – the boyfriend. It’s not like I didn’t love him anymore. I did. I just...I suppose i was young. Now coming up to my last year of high school. I didn’t want to be tied down in the relationship with the older boy. I was bored perhaps. The day at the beach decided it for me. How could I carry on with him if i was having feelings for someone else? When I returned from the beach I tried to end it but just couldn’t so just went on a break. I was too attached. But everyone knows what a break means. I carried on seeing him for a few weeks but he eventually put a stop to it. I think deep down he knew that i wasn’t going to go back to him. I was being selfish. Wanting him and the other. Not thinking about the pain i was causing him. I wish i knew then what i knew now. It just wasn’t fair. Back to the beach guy. I was still ‘messing around’ with him as he called it. I didn’t, still don’t, like to say messing around. It was more than that, much more.