We were nineteen years old and we were searching for love, like a pirate looking for his filthy share of gold. We searched it anywhere we could find, in the facebook chats, in the twitter world, in the corners of the classroom, across the halls.
We were nineteen and we wanted a picture perfect love, picture perfect happiness, picture perfect world. We were nineteen and things made little sense. Maybe we let the movies dictate our imagination, maybe we let those romantic books seep into our bones a little more than we should have or maybe it was supposed to be the way it was, we were nineteen and we got broken.
But, we were nineteen, and we were alive. Our hearts were not scared to beat faster and we could feel the weight of blood pooling in our veins. We were nineteen and we knew less of the world than we do today. We had ignored the maps and went into an exploration and things made less sense. We were nineteen and we lived the way we should have. We were nineteen and the tattoo on our shoulder shouts the honest slogan, “No Regrets”.