I remember when I first met you. You weren’t really my type. You would do really sweet things and then you would say something nasty even without meaning to- I looked like I was wearing P.Js, etc. Neither of us meant to fall but we did. I fell harder. I held back. You didn’t let me. You gave me an ultimatum. I didn’t want to lose you. Remember when you were scared because we were so perfect? I guess it was just too good to be true.
I remember when you asked for a break. My heart broke into a million pieces. I didn’t eat for four days. I didn’t sleep. It tortured my little heart. It was two days after you’d asked me to meet your mum. How was I supposed to get over that? How was I supposed to get over the fact that you thought I cheated with your best friend?
We got back together. You missed me. But I didn’t know how to put the pieces back together. We broke up. I ate. I slept. I cried sometimes. You were sweet sometimes. You hinted at us getting back together. I ignored the hints. You kissed me. I tasted it on my lips for days. You stopped talking to me. I called constantly. Just to talk. I talked, you listened. You said you had nothing to say to me. I cried a lot and called you some more. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. I was no closer to getting over you. I left. Numbness set in. I talked to you, it started again. Months turned into a year. I still cried. I still called you sometimes. You ignored me sometimes. Humiliated me sometimes. You were adamant we couldn’t be friends. I cried some more.
I met other guys. They made me laugh. I still thought about you. Finally, I thought it was gone. I saw you again. You were nervous, your eyes lit up. It all came rushing back. You remained adamant. You ignored another birthday. One year turned into two.
I’m now over you, first love.