My life can be neatly divided into three sections. Noah. Aiden. And .... Everything else.
Noah is the boy who helps me remember. He's the one who sears my soul and breaks my heart, more times than I can count. Noah is the boy my disobedient heart won't stop loving no matter how many times I've tried. He's also the one who sees me—all of me. Loving Noah is like being lured by a siren onto a flaming star: it's intense, bright and addicting, but I don't know if it's worth it.
And then there's Aiden—he helps me forget. Aiden is soft and easy in all the places Noah is hard and closed... . Loving Aiden is like being on a roller coaster ride where your heart does that flippy floppy thing. Aiden and I can talk for hours: he makes me snort when I laugh and dares me into wild adventures. His spirit is filled with so much play it's hard to feel any other emotion except happiness. But happiness can turn stale when there's nothing else.
Not all love stories end in happily ever after. No, not even close. More like tangled heartbreak wrapped around moments of supreme bliss, wondering what the heck with a good dose of self-loathing until you reach a deep dark place where you realize the truth. And that truth makes it worth it.
I'm not unusual. I'm part of the norm. This is my love story. I worked hard for it, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
This is the story of Noah…