One year.

For my first love.

When you look at the big picture, a year can either seem like a lifetime or a small portion of a larger story. February 27th, 2014, something I thought would never happen to me happened: a cute boy, who I liked in return, asked me out. I was 19, and all of my friends had been in serious relationships before, but I had yet to experience a serious relationship. He and I had a rough beginning, but we set aside our differences and became friends, only later to enter into a relationship. One and close to 3 months later, I have discovered that loving him was both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me.

I am not going to delve into all of the issues occurring in our problematic relationship, but I will say that there were enough to cause several rifts between us. I am a chronic over-thinker, and because of this, I would focus on a single problem we were having, obsess over it for what could be weeks, then he would get annoyed with me and I felt guilty for annoying him so regularly. That's not to say I'm the only one who caused the problems in our relationship. He was half of the problem; I was the other half.

I'm not going to bash him, because he taught me so much about myself and I will always feel so gratuitous towards him for this. It breaks my heart that we were not compatible with one another. We were halting each other's growth as individuals...and I knew it was time to end the vicious cycle we were entrapped in. I knew I was too depressed and anxious at the moment to hold a relationship steady and give our relationship the healthiest amount focus and attention I wanted to give it. I know that he is not happy enough with himself to be capable of making another person happy. So I wanted to cut the ties that bound us to one another. I don't know if I regret it right now, because though I am feeling as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, I feel as though that weight has been placed upon my chest and I cannot breathe. I can only hope the best for him, my first love. Part of me wishes he could have been my first love and my last love, but I understand that spending your life with the first person you fall in love with doesn't often happen. And boy, am I jealous of those who it does happen for, because I am not a fan of having to open myself up to someone totally new.

To make a long story short, I do still love him, even if it's just platonic. I am currently knee deep in stress, and I did not want to bring him down with me. I hope nothing but the best for him. And I hope our friendship may blossom the way our love did. 

Author's Note

Ignore any grammar problems or anything, this was literally just a vent session I needed to get off my chest. Break ups are hard, man.

Reviews

[Leindor]

I understand this. Very deep. Sometimes venting through writing is the best way to truly understand one's own feelings. I hope that your heart recovers swiftly.