You were my first love. First heartbreak. First boyfriend. You were the person who has shaped me into who I am today, but I am not the girl you wanted me to be. Not by any stretch of the imagination. She was quiet and meek and shy. I won't let you say the things you used to say anymore. She listened to you, was a shoulder to cry on. I am sick of you trying to cry on my shoulder, trying to get me to believe that you are the one hurting. Because, I will believe you. Over and Over and Over again. Old habits die hard, and you are the oldest habit I have. Right there with my chewed fingernails and scarred inner cheek from all the biting I do when I am anxious. Right there with the ripped out pages of notebooks strewn across my room, and the going back to people who have broken me. You are the oldest, the nastiest, the habit I would most like to stop. But, I can't. Because, every time I think I'm really truly done, you show up with tears streaming down your face and I give you a shoulder to cry on. I give you peace of mind, because you know that someone still has a crush on you. I don't have a crush on you anymore, I am in love with you now. Now, and then, and fourth grade. I am, I was, I have been in love with you. And I give, and give, and give, until there is nothing left for you to take. That is how it has been, that is how it will be....
