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First Love

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I have had 2 significant others. Not just girlfriend but people I truly cared for, spent a long time with, and saw myself falling in love with. I have to admit to myself that them alone, made the biggest impact on my heart, even if they ended poorly. Sarah… Was almost a two year long relationship with secrets about each other that others never knew at time and some that others still may not know. I won’t go into detail out of respect. We both were young. We shared all our thoughts. Saw each other as much as possible. It’s funny… She once said “isnt it weird that our hands lace so perfectly together?” I put a gentle smile on my face and agreed. The thoughts caught up with what she had said and I knew, in that moment, we felt something for each other that others dream of. I supported her every decision and she supported mine. I would have walked to the ends of the Earth for her just to see her smile or laugh as how she always did. There was something about her that made me hold on to all those memories even after we were through and even now. After 1 year and 11 months, she cheated on me. I asked myself every day “why?” I still have no answers. True love is one of the rarest emotions for humans and we all experience it differently so there are no reasons are answers often. I wouldn’t mind still knowing the answer. Thoughts from depression and realization clouded my mind. Maybe she never really loved me. Maybe she did but didn’t realize it until it was done. Or perhaps she did realize it but felt trapped and made a mistake. If that last one was the case, though, then was there an opportunity for another chance? I would have taken it. I often wonder how long she thought about me until I became a distant memory locked away. There’s a difference between having a deep caring and a true love for someone. Maybe those three words were only meant for me to say but without those words being said in return. Maybe I was meant to hear them. Truth is hard to find in a word like love. Often times the word is construed into our own beliefs rather than the true meaning. I’m not going to say I am hung up on her because it was years ago. I was hung up for a while because I could not rid the pain and ache in my heart. But I have accepted that we will not see each other again, kiss, embrace, or even talk to each other. I’m okay with it but I have these random occasional thoughts about her. I wonder how she is doing and what she is up to. Nothing serious usually. I just don’t understand why those rare thoughts come in when time has healed all wounds from that even with it being years of time. Am I holding on to memories/thoughts in t he back of my mind to embody hope of finding that feeling again. Or is it the simple fact that she was my first love? Ha. Its funny because we used to argue over who lived the other more like most do. I guess won. Even if I didn’t win, I’d still have no way of knowing. I guess closure is more important when it comes to love than I originally thought. I feel as if I only knew the real, true reason why she cheated, then I would know whether she truly loved me or not. It could have been my fault. We were starting to fight… I can’t remember, for the life of me, what it was about. It really must have not been important at all. Hell… I don’t remember the specifics of any single bad thing with her… Except the day we split up but that’ll come later. I guess jealousy started to take over me, though. I handled it better than most others but there’s still no room for jealousy in a relationship. I feel as if it was nothing more than an ‘extra’ compared to the lead role of the cause of us splitting up. Our actions are powered by something, right? Did I power it? Did others? Or did she, alone, decide with no influence? After a few fights it was clear, or so we thought at the time, that we needed a break. Keep in mind, after the break started, we only talked on the phone. At first I figured we wouldn’t but she called me wanting to talk after the break started. We talked every night for hours as if nothing had changed. At first, I was weary of this, though, because it hurt so much to talk to my loved one when I wasn’t even hers and she wasn’t mine anymore. My weariness dissipated after the first hour. I never would’ve believed it was going to be for good, though, since we were once considered the happiest couple who truly cared for each other and experienced what most others have never experienced at our young age. I didn’t realize it then but now I realize since we both felt deeply about each other, we needed to talk every night to get through it, even if we were done for good. The nights during our “break” weren’t really arguments but more of an attempt to mend our relationship. We told truths and revealed secrets. I was told truths that made me bite my tongue. I was told secrets that angered me because I cared about her so much. Sometimes,and I admit, I overreacted instead of reassuring her it was okay. I wish I would have never overreacted. I wish I had the knowledge I own now back then. I told her secrets and truths about me that were mere particals compared to hers. Maybe my past was not that exciting at the time to dig dip and share something she didn’t know for I had told her the most of me. She had secrets hidden deep, though. The kind of secrets that are never shared, not even with family, best friends, or boyfriends until there is true feeling and one hundred percent trust. The fact that she told me her secrets lead me to believe she truly loved me, although others will disagree. It progressed for a few days and hope began to take shape in my grasp. but unfortunately things began to spiral down and the momentum was too much to stop. The hope slowly slipped away. Pills came into play around a week later. There were nights where she only had moments of true lucidity and some nights where she was lucid without memorizing all we talked about. I loved her, though. I wasn’t going to give up on her, ever. I continued to talk to her on the phone whether she was lucid or not. I even began staying up on the phone every night, all night, while she slept to make sure she was okay. She wanted me to as well, at the time. I would never break a promise with the ones I love so I promised. One night she fell asleep on the phone and I shortly after broke down that night, listening to her subtle breath as she was in slumber. It may sound childish or lame to others but I a box of notes, pictures, and cards that she had given me. I even kept movie tickets and other objects that held memories and meaning. I had planned to make a notebook (I kind of made a smaller version before) for our two year with a story of us. I was going to make a page in chronological order of the stuff I had saved. I was going to paste our first movie ticket together with a couple lines talking about what happened that night and so on with that. I also wrote 100 reasons why I loved her (from small stuff like the way she smiled or danced to music to big stuff like accepting me for me and always trying to understand everything) with lame/terrible drawings that I knew she’d find cute. The back had poems I had written to her. I was going to give her a poem each week to add. I created a concrete poem once in the shape of a heart and printed it out. I taped a heart pendant necklace around the outside so the chain made a heart. I was going to have the poem reprinted (cause she had the original copy on her wall) and put it in the back cover while the front had pictures of us. It sounds as if I have gone off subject but I didn’t because all of that stuff was in the box I was looking at before I broke down. I couldn’t handle it… She was hurting me so bad and she never knew it. I never walked away either, though, because I suppose I still had hope. I had once heard that hope is the last thing always worth fighting for when there’s nothing else left. The hope, instead, kept me away from accepting the possible truth that it was over. Using hope to fight back against our tragedy was a lost cause, although, I was blind to it. I say that but another part of me wants to say there was hope there for she would slip up sometimes and.say “I love you.” However, I never knew how lucid she was when that came out. I remember her saying it the night I broke down before she fell asleep. Plunging through the box of movie tickets, pictures, and cards I came across the most beautiful picture of her she had given me. She had a gentle, warm smile in it with her golden, long hair slightly curled. She looked absolutely radiant in the photograph as if she had captured a true part of her and her beautiful personality in it. Tears began to stream down my face from seeing her beauty. Out of pain and agony I threw the box across the room and began to sob repeatedly asking “why. I’m so sorry Sarah. Please forgive me for the fights. I love you so much.” I still had not gotten off the phone because I promised her I would stay on and make sure everything was okay. I just pulled the voice capture side further away. I cried, continuing to ask for another chance as if I was talking to god, although at the time, I wasn’t sure what I believed. I continued to break down crying, talking to nothing, and feeling so sick to my stomach. I said that I loved her and was about to say more until a voice from the other side said “I know.” She had heard a lot of it… She said that she loved me too completely lucid. You couldn”t imagine the jump-start my heart felt. We weren’t even together anymore but hearing those words made me understand completely why love is something something so beautiful. Love can be pure bliss or a devastating tragedy. However the reality was we were still split up and that soon set in after that we were. I never truly understood why she wanted me so bad when we were split up and also when she was consuming pills. It’s as if she wanted the pills to forget the pain of the break up but at the same time, talk to me because we were the first to love of our friends at that time so no one truly knew or understood. Either way, it was all hurting me so bad. The break up, her depression, and pills. There was a separate night I stayed up on the phone all night while she was sleeping. She woke up confused and scared. She acted as if we have never met screaming in almost tears “who are you?” Over and over again. I was scared because she was completely lost and I didn’t know how to bring her back. I kept telling her who I was and kept trying to explain who exactly I am to her. She eventually, after about forty full minutes calmed down. She didn’t say much and drifted back to sleep. I loved her, though, and if staying there through all that is considered crazy then I guess its true. Love makes you do crazy things. This story only gets more sad, unfortunately….. A little while after that, we drifted. She began to move on. We had the occasional run ins and chats… But she returned all the items I had given her after 10 months after us splitting up. After receiving back all the stuff I had given her, I felt as if I had given her a piece of my heart that was never truly healed from our break up. This is a part of my past I remember vividly and I feel as if I will always remember. I was young and I had found love but it’s all over now. It may not be a happy love story, but it is about love.

by anonymous


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