A Letter to the First Boy I've Ever Loved

7 - False Hopes & Broken Dreams

But one thing is for certain, I loved who you were so much I was blinded by them to see your entirety. Or maybe, you purposefully hid your entirety and showed me the side that is easy to love. The side of you which any girl would be dumb enough to value and keep and find indelible.

You were so good at keeping up with my expectations, too. It almost seemed like you teamed up with the universe to make sure I saw you as nothing less than more than a friend.

I remember asking you to take that personality test. I forced you because I was hoping we'd be the perfect match. And you can bet I almost died when you said,

"ESFP. Oh hey, it says I'm most compatible with an INFP. What did you get?"

And believe me, I was dying to tell you I got exactly what you said but I chose to not tell you because I was afraid of jinxing it. And I danced around, jumped up and down and squealed, when I muted the mic after telling you I'd be back in a few minutes. That's what I did in that interval - I'm sorry I never answered your question. I was ecstatic and that was the day I truly believed that you and I were two people who were meant to meet and chill for a really long time.

But I was wrong. Oh so wrong and I'm realizing it only now, tearing me apart all over again.

I wish I had known though, you know. I wish I had known that we were and will never be on the same page. I wish I had known that I will always be me and you will always be you. I wish I had known that who you are and who I am are two things that will never collide.

Even if the 16 Personalities theory states that we are, even if the horoscopes said that you were what I needed and I was what you needed, even if I never wanted to talk to anyone else as much as I wanted to talk to you, even if you had said I was different and you liked that, we were never compatible. We were never right for each other.

But I wish we were. And I hate that I wish we were because I shouldn't.

And it hurt. It hurt so bad I had days and nights and afternoons spent weeping quietly and alone because I was ashamed. Ashamed that I was crying just because of a boy and ashamed that I've allowed myself to be that idiotic. Ashamed because I almost never wept.

They began haunting me when you told me you were going to sleep but I found out later that you were up until four in the morning. You told me you were too tired from that basketball game to talk and I believed you. I was cool with it until I found out you had stayed up to talk to someone else. And that someone else was her.

After so long and after everything we've told each other, you lied to me to talk to Margo.

I would've understood, you know. I would've let you talk to her, even though it pained me, because I knew you were not mine. I knew I had no right to get mad so I didn't. I knew you were allowed to talk to whoever you wanted to.

What I couldn't quite grasp was, why did you have to lie to me?

Did you think I wouldn't understand? Did you think I would tell you to stay away from her? Did you think I was that stupid and naive and clingy? Did you think I was pathetic? Or was that your way of letting me go? Was I that useless to you, that much of a nuisance, that you had to lie to my ears instead of just telling me the truth?

I tried to hold them back, you know. I tried so hard they came out even stronger than they should have. I tried so hard to not let the tears flow out but I failed, miserably and embarrassingly. I was scared of what you thought of me but even more scared of what would happen to me when you decide to go away. I was almost prepared to let you go and accept that this was the beginning of the end.

But you came back. You came back the following day as if nothing happened. You came back as if you never even lied to me, as if you did nothing wrong. And I let go, once more, of the thought of you leaving . You had me believing you talked to her to clear out the garbage and to throw it away.

We were doing well, you know. We were doing so well I was so sure nothing could possibly go wrong anymore. It was enough for me but, to my dismay, it wasn't for you.

You made me cry again after that awesome first not-date we had. I was freezing at the theater while we were watching that Angeline Jolie film. We shared that jacket of yours and almost cuddled beneath the piece of clothing that kept us both warm. I remember even telling you about how good the jacket smelled but you, your egotistical self, told me it was you who smelled good and not the jacket. But you were right, nonetheless.

You didn't hold my hand nor wrapped your arm around me but that simple gesture of pulling up the arm rest and snuggling and laughing and joking and teasing while watching the film was good enough for me. I was giddy but I tried not to show it. I felt warm, not just because of the jacket, but because you were there, watching the film, even though you had said Margo had asked you to watch it with her instead.

It was almost close to being beautiful until you whispered, "my mom's texting me," as if you were excusing yourself and apologizing even, for taking your phone out.

Of course, I didn't mind. I knew you knew I wouldn't mind. Why would I mind? You were talking to your mother, for crying out loud. You were so stupid, trying to hide that phone of yours because I saw it anyway, even if I didn't mean to.

My pouch fell and I picked it up and then your phone was flashing,

"MARGO,"

yes, in bold and capital letters. Then it all came crashing down.

Why did you have to ask me out in the first place, you asshole? Why did you have to make me believe you wanted to spend time with me the whole day when you preferred to spend it with her, instead? Why did you have to act like you were happy where we were, that you were glad we were hanging out, that you were so glad you were with me when you were missing her and dreading our movie date? Why did you have to pretend to be a gentleman and held doors and pulled out chairs for me?

Why did you have to lie to me? Why did you have to deceive me? Why did you have to toy with my feelings?

I cried as I thought to myself. I cried as I told others. And I cried even more as I began to realize that all I had were false hopes and broken dreams.

I cried because you never wanted me. I cried because I thought you did. I cried because I still hoped you would but you didn't.

And it was time - the time for me to leave because I knew exactly where I stood now. It was one of the whys behind me leaving. It was the beginning of the trail of doubts and pain and tears you caused in my life. It marked the real beginning of the end.

Because knowing what you did, I still stayed. I stayed because I still hoped things would stay the same. But that was until the indelible things left so swiftly, it was almost they never even existed in the first place. And when they were gone, I almost felt my entirety crumble down like a piece of bread being fed to animals. They were gone so fast I barely even realized I didn't have you anymore and it stung.

All I had left were memories and what-ifs. I realize only now that everything I held onto were gone. All I had was nothing. And I wept even more. Silent and unnoticed, they went by but still they were there.

But the worst of it all is that I knew. I knew from the start you that it would happen. The tiny part of me which I've ignored for so long was right. You wouldn't stay for too long. I've always known you were not worth the pain and the trouble but I went anyway, and ignored the tingly thought of your immaturity.

I was ashamed because I cried for a fifteen-year-old boy who acted like he was eighteen and had the maturity of a ten-year-old.

And let me tell you, it hurt.

It hurt, not because you were beautiful. It hurt because I thought you were. It hurt because I believed you were. It hurts because I still hope you'd be. And it is even more painful because you aren't.