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A Letter from Your First Love

I was asked about you today.


I didn't really know what to say.


It's been so long since we've spoken. I got the chance to smile and tell them about how I used to know you.


It was a weird sort of relief, to relive the love and the pain in a gentle way.


I've been lucky enough to make some friends who care enough to ask.


I just remember the way I waited for you, for a long time. I realize I'm not that person anymore. I'm not the one who thought you'd wait for me. I watched you lose me, then I watched me lose myself. But, I've found her again. I had found her in you, once upon a time. It's weird to think about now, about this time that feels like eons ago. Things have changed so much, and just like that, you're someone I used to know.


I have a friend, one who I've started to talk to again, and it's been really nice. I didn't think they'd ever forgive me for the way I treated them, but they seemed to. It's nice.


I'm a lot closer with my sister now, and my brother. I've finally gotten the help I've always wanted, and I start to wonder how much of our relationship disaster was just me. I remember searching for my own pulse, that moment things ended, and having my big sister there to restart my heart for me. She had told me she was proud of me, did you know that? For doing what I needed to.


I never thought about writing you again, but here I am.


It's strange. You've changed so much, but so have I. I'm someone you forgot and left behind, and you're the same for me. A first love is only that. A first love.


I honestly hope you never read this. I don't want to show this side of myself to you, but I think it's important for other people to see me be vulnerable in a different way.


I can't get over how different things are now. It's strange to think that once upon a time we would have been married by now. We would have been married for some time, actually. We were so young and stupid, and I would be lying if I said a part of me didn't miss it. Didn't miss you. Maybe in another life, things would've worked out. I wouldn't have been so obsessive, and you wouldn't have lied. Maybe things would have been different. And I can be happy with that. In this life, you weren't the one, but maybe in another you were.


I'd be lying if I said a part of me didn't still love you, but it's in the way someone loves the ocean or the stars; a mindless, passing love, that just exists. Just an afterthought, really.


But I think everyone loves their first love. At least a little.


I know everyone may know who I'm talking about, and it makes it super embarrassing to write this, but it feels cyclical. I'm finally finding the parts of myself that I didn't realize you still had. Things are coming full-circle, and when I was asked about you, I realized that I could still think about the idea of you and feel something. I don't know how you are, but I think it's better that way.


There's a part of me that will always wonder if you think of me in the same familiar way I think of you. I hope you get happy when you think of me, that you remember the good things, in the way that I do. I hope that you miss me a little, but in the nostalgic way I do, not in the true loneliness of missing someone way. I hope that you're happy where you are, and I hope that life treats you well.


I hope you're happy because, after all the ups and downs of life, I finally am too.


Signed,

Your First Love


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