Two days, or two years?

This is a little something I wrote when I thought I was falling in love for the first time. I was 17/18 and everything around me became a waste of time to me without him. He the core of my new normal.

It was as if she was willing into thin air for him to come and speak to her, for him to come and explain; for him to tell her that she he couldn’t get his mind off of her either.
She felt lost without him, it had only been a day since she spoke to him last, and she was shocked to find that she was sad about it.
Reeeeally sad.
She shocked that she couldn’t really remember how to function without him because it had never been this deep for her before. Her feelings had crept up on her in the same way winter suddenly sneaks up on autumn, and she had watched herself shedding off pieces of who she were day by day and reattaching the new ones he was giving her.
She loved him. She knew that for sure because she was well aware of the moment she made the choice to love him. That’s exactly what love is, a choice, and she felt pity for those who believed that you couldn’t help who you fall in love with, because you can. For her it all started with a simple thought, she was in the middle of conversation, thinking to herself “I definitely could love this man...” and without even really knowing it, planting a seed in her own heart.
So she opened herself up entirely to him. Every nook and cranny, parts that she hadn’t even discovered about herself; the things she enjoyed, the things that made her laugh, what she wanted for herself, she felt like she was discovering herself in a wonderful way through him, and she only wanted to continue to discover herself with him.
She liked the woman she was when he was around, and she envisioned herself as the kind of woman who lived recklessly and care free with him, every step bathed in spontaneity and laughter, happily existing in a world where it was sunny all the time.
She thanked God. She felt like they had brought her this wonderful guy, it was a reward and worth the wait, as she had gone for so long without having a boyfriend and being “the single one” in all her friendship groups, from primary school upwards. She couldn’t see the fact that every day he was in one way or another hurting her. It never even crossed her mind, because to her someone with that spirit and who was “comfort” personified, there was no way he ever did anything to deliberately hurt her... at least, bit as far as far as she knew. To her he was her forever, because she loved him and he woke her up. He poked and prodded at the part of her that even had it in her to love someone, and because of that she felt like she just wanted to give him what was rightfully his. Her heart belonged to him, and she was more than willing to surrender it and the glass box it was in to him to keep.
She sat there, looking at her computer and willing him to send a message, wishing that “ding” that signified a new message, an email or any kind of message from him, just to let her know that he was drowning in thoughts of her the same way she was drowning in thoughts of him... I mean, he had to be right? She couldn’t be the only one out of the two of them that felt this deeply? after all, he’s the one that told her he loved her first, so he had to be just as consumed in her as she was in him, right? She had noticed about herself that out of nowhere she would find subtle ways to slip him into any conversation she was having with anybody. She saw his face everywhere and the things he liked and enjoyed seemed to run her life. Her mind didn’t belong to her anymore and that was okay by her, to her, this was the way things were supposed to be. This is how things were always meant to end.
It hadn’t even been a day since she last spoke to him and she missed him. She missed him with the kind of ache that had been foreign to her until she met him so a part of her didn’t understand any of this, at all. It was like she suddenly wasn’t a whole person anymore. It was as if the better part of who she was had run off with him.
The day seemed to drag on endlessly, and it was almost over and she felt like it had been a wasted day. Because she hadn't spoken to him once yet, her day was meaningless, as since he came along, the option of doing other things with her day had become lost to her.
Her days never truly started until he became a part of it.
U w a
- x o x o -

Author's Note

Please point out any grammatical issues or ways you think this can be improved. But again, I’m a respectful manner por favor :)