This morning, I thought back to a year and seven months ago. I thought back to the very beginning of us. I cried and I cried, oh how I cried. Not because it hurt, but because it was beautiful. I took a chance with you and you showed me how to live. Yeah, I want you back. I would give anything to have you back, but I’ve learned that I can’t always get what I want out of you. You’ve called me a “pest” and a “coward”, cruel words that I would have never imagined you say to me. Words that run through my body like a serpent. Cold. Yet I still linger. I still miss you. I miss you right now at this very second, but you need space and time. Why? Because I attacked you with myself. I threw all my emotions and thoughts right at you. You carried them on your back like a slave, you were forced. But once you found the strength to say no, my world began to diminish. You became colder, smarter. You knew what to say and where it hurt. I miss your loud car. The black leather seats that boiled in the summer. We were so in love in the summer, at least I was. But just as summer came to and end, so did our love. The cool breezes of the fall mimic our downfall. They mimic you and I. I want to know what’s on your mind. I ask but you never answer. I call out to you, I scream out at you, but all that I hear is my own damn echo. Desperate. Pathetic. I want to ask you how your family is doing. God I miss your family. How is your dog? I know he’s getting old. Did I get old to you? I feel as if I got boring to you. I want another shot to show you that our love is still there. It’s yearning to be set free from its slumber. Let it be felt. But you won’t give me a second chance. It hurts but I have hope that maybe in the future, we can try at this again. I want one more opportunity and I promise to you I won’t throw it to waste. I’m jealous of her, whoever she may be. Present or future, I’m jealous of her. I know she’ll be beautiful and have a mind of her own. I know your type. I’m not blind, nor stupid. I can see what’s right there in front of me. It’s only natural that you try to fill the void I left in you with someone else. She’s not me, and she will never be. She won’t ever be me or be able to fill in what I left in you. Can she say juice the way I do? Has she seen the office more than you have? Will she make up her own dances when she’s bored? Will she struggle at winking? Will she ever give you what I gave you? Will she ever care as much for you as I do? Will she love you more than I do? No. She will never share the same things we shared. And even with all that being said, I’m still jealous. You’ll notice that when you’re with her, you’ll do things with her that you did with me. You’ll do our things. You’ll miss me like I miss you. You’ll miss my mom’s homemade salsa. But I want you to be happy. I want to give you the world again. I want to be your entire world again. I want to give your butterflies again. I want to hold your hands again, and I want to feel you pop your fingers while we told hands. I want you to wink at me again like you did when I smiled at you. I want to look into your beautiful green eyes and feel at home again. I want to be yours again, and I want you to me mine. I don’t want you to forget about all the memories that we shared. I want to reminisce over the night we met, we were two strangers. I want to tell you that I love you again without having to say “like a friend” afterwards. I think of what may be of us if you hadn’t given up so easily. Happiness. For me, maybe for you if you look back as far as I did, back to a year and seven months ago.
— Your first love.