Come Back To Me

okay so i just wrote this last night and personally, i really like it <33 

i think it has potential and is a different kind of writing for me to experience with 

ive done funny, supernatural always some romancee in all three lol 

and not this is just a normal romantic story and i hope you guys will give it a chance :)) please i beg you lol give me your input, i hope you guys like it  :)))

oh and title ideas would be appreciated!!! please i beg you for title ideas, i suck at it!!

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chapter 1

Dylan and I had been neighbors our entire lives. He was the boy next store and I was the little girl begging to tag along with him and his friends. He had always been sweet to me and I had always been in love with him for as long as I could remember.

But it was never like that for him I suppose, to him I was only little Kate and nothing else.

Tomorrow he was leaving for college. He was two years older than I was and heading to New York City to attend NYU. He didn't know what he was majoring in yet, but he had always been smart. He just hadn't decided exactly what he wanted to do yet.

I would miss him.

We had been friends since forever and confided in each other about everything.

I was the one he told about his first kiss and the person he ran to the time he ditched school and hid in our tree house; afraid to face his parents. He was ten years old and going to live up there and never come down. It had taken me two whole hours to get him to go and face the music; which had ened up being a months' sentence of being grounded.

That was all in the past now. Tomorrow my friend would be gone and things would never be the same. I was smarter than to think that he would visit every other month or come home every holiday and summer vacation. He was growing up and faster then I could catch up to him.

Next week I would be a mere junior in high school and he would be a college freshman a thousand miles away from home.

I sat in our tree house, afraid to go down and be faced with the consciousness that he was really leaving. Maybe I would live up here and never come down just like Dylan had planned to do all those years ago. I could create a make believe world where nothing ever changed and things always stayed the same.

I looked at our pictures that hung on the wall, I was six and Dylan was eight. My dirty blond hair was pulled back into two frumpy big tails and my overalls hung loose; hand me downs from my older sister. Standing beside me in the old faded photo was Dylan, who looked as handsome