Stories From The Soul

My First Love

Loving someone isn't as easy as everyone makes it out to be. First loves, real loves and not those silly high school ones, hurt. It's not the end of a first love that it hurts, it's the discomfort of opening yourself up to love.

I never thought I would love someone at such a young age. When I met him, I didn't think he would like someone like me. I'm not at all as confident as other girls who flaunt their relationships. He took an interest in me, something that took me weeks to figure out, and then he started opening up about himself.

It was terrifying knowing that he would expect the same from me. How to tell someone your dirty secrets, the shameful insecurities, and all those moments of poor judgment? I don't know how I ever mustered up the courage to show him the real me, which should have sent him running. My first love and I was so scared of opening up to someone who could leave me in the dust. I knew that was a possibility which is why it took me so long to tell him about myself, about my true self.

It took months before we got anywhere and my insecurities caught up to me and I ended our relationship momentarily because I thought he was unhappy. How very cliche of me to think that there are people out there better than me that he could have when what he wanted was a relationship with me. It didn't matter who he dated before or after me, he wanted me in that moment and it took ending our relationship for me to actually see that.

I thought that was it for my first love, a few months of bliss that ended from my insecurity of not being good enough. I had opened up and left him, a fear that I had of him when we started seeing each other.

Then, he came back, because he doesn't quit.

I thought he would want to move on, want to try dating other people. But, he came back to me. Even after I broke his heart and told him I'd be moving far away, he still wanted to give it a shot. Maybe I was a fool for thinking another chance at first love was going to end happily.

It didn't, because I destroyed it only weeks later.

I was leaving for a new place and thought he deserved someone who would be there, someone to go on weekly dates with, someone to visit him in the middle of night, someone who would rush to his house to soothe his worries. I couldn't do that for him because I was in a new place, trying to figure myself out.

I ended my first love with a sorrowful heart, hoping that one day he would forgive me for breaking his heart not once, but twice. Then, when I felt my heart yearning for him again, he found a new love. 

With that, my first love broke my heart too. We moved on, grew apart, but never forgot that we were each others' first love.