I met a lady last night that told me stories of how her fourteen year old granddaughter thought she was "in love." As I began to giggle at the silly little things she would say about this situation, I began to see myself in them as well. When she stopped talking, I told her how I used to think I was in love back at that age too. I recalled the moments, even in middle school, when I believed I was in true love. Then the moments in high school when I was convinced that i was going to move five hours away from my family to be with the man of my dreams. I remembered all the silly little promises I made back then, all the whispered "I love you's" at the end of late night phone conversations. I remembered all the highs of being "in love" so young. And then I finally remembered all the heartbreak that followed. I remembered realizing for the first time that I didn't want to uproot my whole life for this man so far away. I remember the moment that I finally understood that true love wasn't supposed to hurt that bad and true love wasn't supposed to break me. I remembered that morning in church that I could barely even breathe. I remembered it all. And last night, I prayed to God that this lady's granddaughter didn't have to go through nearly as much heartbreak as I did. I prayed that when true love comes, she would recognize it. And when love shows up, it would be exactly how she has always imagined it.