Love is a strange thing. How do you know if you really love someone? Beats me. Of course I love my family immensely, but I've never loved a guy. Sure I've had a couple of crushes, but it's not the same. There's was one guy. He was a year younger than me. He was nerdy, but loved sports. I had a crush on him forever.. I thought I loved him. But no. That's the thing. You can never know if you love someone. Love is hard to understand.
I walk outside to the crisp, cold November air. I breathe in, then breathe out, taking in the cold morning.
I've always loved mornings. Some say I am strange for being such a morning person at the age I am. Others say I am wise. That does happen to be what my name means. Maya. Although, I still don't understand how I am wise. I don't understand why some people call me wise. I just feel like a young silly girl.
I'm clever, and I'm very smart. I'm artistic, creative, witty. Funny, silly, crazy. I could go on and on, tons of different adjectives.
Just not wise.
My dad wants to take me to school today so I sling my bag over one shoulder and hop in the car. I take my phone out and plug in my headphones. Paramore's "Still into you" plays through the buds. I get on Instagram and start scrolling through the photos.
My dad and sister open the car doors and get in. We start driving, and my dad talks to my sister about her Spanish exam. And I listen to my music, drifting into another world.