Remember how your first love is nothing but meeting a guy in an unexpected place at the most unexpected time and although things are all messed up and completely out of hand, it just works out? It turns out, love goes like this: One day there will be a guy who'll come and storm his way through your life and leave it with nothing but the aftermath of his so-called "love."
We first started out as high school lovers and after a long 4-year stretch, we ended up dating again in college. I thought it was fate. Who knew we'd end up with the same circle of friends? I felt the surge of emotions I felt the first time I met you: The thrill of first love.
To my first boyfriend who left me for who knows how many times already, I still love you. I miss how you'd scream during horror films and ask me if I was okay when you're obviously the one who's freaking out. I miss how you'd say "I don't care" when I tell you something yet you ask follow up questions about it. I miss it when you'd call me and ask if anything's bothering me because you feel that something's wrong. I miss it when you'd be in the middle of doing something yet you pause and stare at me then tell me, "Heavens. Am I lucky to be with you."
As much as I'd love to let things stay that way, there were also days when you'd just break up with me for no apparent reason. It'll either be "I'm tired of you" or "I need space." We were already in a long distance relationship, as if the distance in between us isn't enough. It was always a different reason for each break-up and every time I'd ask you what's really happening, you'd just block me out. At first it happened once every 3 months, then once a month, and before I knew it we were breaking up almost every day. Sadly, I got used to it; there were even times when I didn't really care anymore. I knew you'd come back, you always did.
But that one night when I really got mad at you and for the first time in forever, I initiated a breakup. I expected you to stop me. I expected you to reflect on what you did but it turned out, I was the one who reflected on what I did. I spent weeks trying to contact you, but you never answered my calls nor have you returned my messages. I tried reaching out to you on social media, but it turned out you either blocked or unfriended me.
I guess I was never good enough for you. After all, it only took you a month to find another girl. I hated you to the extent that I ended up stalking you—I had your friends to help me, sorry. I thought you leaving me was the worst feeling you'd possibly give me, but it turns out, you looking at her the way you looked at me before was even worse.
It's been a year since we broke up. Everyone's been nagging me to move on already but I can't do it without proper closure. It was only last night when I had the guts to ask you if what we had was something, I wasn't expecting a reply but I got one. You replied "I was happy." WAS. Past tense. Though it really never answered my question, it was good enough for me to let go. I guess there really are some things that should remain in the past. One good example would be "us."
The writer wants to remain anonymous.