1 Prologue

What is love? To many, this is a big, scary question with an elusive answer. It's quite undefinable, intangible, but once it hits you-you're never the same. "You will go today to the kindergarten." "What's the point? What am I supposed to do there?" I protest very sure of myself and hug tighter my teddy bear as if he could protect me from being forcefully socialized in a group of unknown people. I am perfectly fine spending my time with my toys and the books I love to read. If you ask me, that's pretty strange for a five-year-old, but take it from me, this isn't a regular five years old, nor is the story a typical romance story. " You'll meet children your age, play with them, make new friends and learn exciting new things. You'll love it there." I look at my grandma. She is wearing glasses, a grey trench coat, and a green headband and smiles encouragingly at me.

I silently grab my colorful bag and follow her to that place, called "kindergarten". The room I enter is full of kids of the same age. I hear laughter, shrieking, and giggles. The walls are yellow. There are desks and chairs for kids scattered around the room in rows that have the shape of the letter U. In a corner, there are toys stuffed in a wardrobe and others are on a shelf, waiting to be picked by kids and pursue a new adventure. There's a big desk, I suppose belongs to the teacher and a blackboard. Here and there I see drawings with beloved cartoon characters on the walls.

My grandma leaves, after saying some nice, encouraging words. I step cautiously into the room. As the teacher is away, I grab a toy and start playing with it. It is a doll with a pink dress. Even though her head is dangerously shaking, she'll do for the job. A girl grabs it out of my hand. "Hey, I was playing with it!" I yell at her, while she evilly laughs. "That's too bad, I already took it."

I contemplate in my head ways to take the doll back from her. However, an uncomfortable knot pops up in my throat and I am on the verge of tears. I just sit there silently looking at her winning and other children playing, while I am sitting in a corner and feel the loneliness creep up inside of me. Maybe I am not meant to be among other people.

A boy approaches me and tells me: "I am taller and stronger than you!" In my mind, an alarm sets off. I always am the smallest one compared to others. How dare he have the audacity to remind me of my shortcomings? I gaze at him and start a fight with him. I try to hit him and shortly after before I know it we are pulling our hair and pushing each other into the tables and whatever else is in our way, like the wardrobe and teacher's desk. As some bruises appear on my arm, a couple of other boys join in the fight, I feel outnumbered and realize I did not have the smartest idea. Another boy is hitting my arm and the third one pulls my leg, as I struggle to not lose gravity. "Hey, leave her alone! That's not a way to treat a girl!" a boy yells angrily at them and fights them off, while the teacher enters the room and sends the three bullies to the corner of shame telling them „their behavior is not acceptable." "Who are you?" I ask the boy, who saved me. I noticed him earlier playing with toys silently in the other corner of the room, staring with the corner of his eye at me than turning his gaze away and blushing. "Josh. Do you want to play with me? I also brought some toys from home with me." "Sure," I nod, smile at him, and follow him. "Also, if anyone else bothers you I am here for you and won't let anything bad happen to you."

I spend this day with him and he makes me laugh, can keep up with me in comparison with other kids. He is very smart, reads books too, and is interested in dinosaurs. He is different than anyone else. Different is good. Being the same with everyone else might help you blend in, but you certainly don't stand out.

We share food, laughter, tears, toys, stories and time flies by. I am no longer alone. I have a friend. Someone who makes me happy, even though he sometimes drives me crazy. "My mom forgot to put the sandwich in the lunchbox." "It's ok, you can have my second one," I tell him and immediately give him one. He takes it gratefully and thanks me.

One day he tells me: „I have a magical crown with which I can turn into Captain Hook and kidnap you." The second day I refuse to go to the kindergarten. For some reason, I believed his words. Now the entire family is gathered around my bed and giving me arguments about why I should dress up and go to kindergarten. I refuse, but don't tell the real reason. They can't know it. I keep saying I feel ill. They won't believe me. Of course, they finally convince me. I ask him at the kindergarten where the crown is. He claims his mother hid it well. He is lying and I was foolish enough to believe him.

I hide his favorite toy, a dinosaur bone to make fun of him while playing with playdough. He becomes angry when he does not find it. He throws a tantrum. This is not what I wanted. I planned to bring his toy back, however, I can't find it anymore where I hid it. He jumps up and down and cries and throws a tantrum. He is a hot head. I feel guilty for what I've done.

My grandma tells me she found out from his mom he has been crying lately because he wants me to move in with him and his parents so they can raise me and later he will marry me. What is marriage? Apparently, according to the TV, it is a moment when a woman puts a white dress on her, eats a lot of cake without fearing she may get fat, kisses the man she loves and feels the happiest woman alive and this moment, if you're lucky enough, is supposed to turn into happily ever after. That feels like a lot of pressure and expectations for just one life event.

One day spent sitting next to him turns into two, then three, then four, and finally I always sit next to him. I get so used to seeing him and spending time with him I don't anticipate one day everything changes suddenly and he disappears into thin air, before I get to say goodbye. He moves an ocean away. I am not ready to let go.