An Open Letter to the First Boy I Gave my Heart to

It’s a rare treat that I have a peaceful night like this to just ponder and write, but tonight is one of those nights. Last night I had a dream and someone I hadn’t thought about in such a long time made a visit. I woke up perplexed, why would someone I thought I forgot about appear in my dream? What did it mean? Did it mean anything, or is it nothing more than a dream? I don’t know. It made me realize I didn’t forget about this person, but life went on and he was pushed to the back of my mind. For the first time in a long time, I remembered how much you meant to me and I missed you. I laid in bed and just thought about how much we went through and felt like I relived every damn memory. I don’t want to get too personal and emotional here but it might get that way so bear with me, please. I get told a lot that I’m way too young to know what love is, that may be true, but I know damn well when I love. I think about the day I met you a lot. I remember it like it happened yesterday. It sounds cliche but it’s true. It was a normal good day, I had no idea who you were, to be honest, I still don’t. You quickly became my best friend. That was when I first gave you a piece of my heart, for you, I was gullible. I think what I like to remember the most about you are your smile and your laugh. When I started cheerleading you sat right in front of me to calm me down. You’d encourage me, make me laugh, and tell me I did a good job (we both knew I didn’t do a good job). I spent almost every day with you. It never occurred to me that you were such a toxic person in my life. Before I realized you already had me trapped. I loved you and it wasn’t a love like what you’d feel for the love of your life, but I don’t know what to call it? It was more than a love for a friend but I can’t quite find the category for it.  All I know is that I loved you as much as I could. You were like my guardian angel in a way. You watched out for me at every wrong turn but at some point, you were a wrong direction. When you left it fucking broke me. I know I’m partly to blame, but I needed you. I can’t remember how many times I cried over you, wished you were here to just hold me again, or tried to lie to myself that I hated you. I never did hate you and never will. I wish I could because it would make it so much easier. There are times where I wish I could just hug you one more time and talk to you. I talked to you about everything and then you weren’t there anymore. I would do almost anything to sit across from you and just spend a whole day talking to you. It would help me a lot, yet would you even care? Like a tornado, you came into my life and wrecked it. I was fine and you broke me. I took a long time to repair myself but I know if given the chance I’d let you destroy me once again. I didn’t know that someone my age could feel heartbreak like this. I handled my parent’s divorce with ease but handling you had me in emotional agony. I was so joyful and you took that away from me. Sure I still Smiled and laughed but there was so much pain beneath it all, I wasn’t the same. I didn’t really know how to deal with that kind of pain and for a long time, didn’t. It was something I dealt with alone for such a long time. When you’re dealing with a one sided pain like this, you have to face it alone. It’s something you have to deal with, no one can take a piece of the burden for you. I don’t know why I do it but I write letters to you. I never send them. I don’t know where to send them, even if I did, would I? It feels good to write my feelings on paper, to acknowledge them. You’ll never read them but they’re there. It seems like there’s no point, knowing I’ll never get a response from you, but I don’t care. I wonder if you think about me like I think about you or if I’m erased from your memory. Forgotten. I know you won’t read this either but one day I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you how you picked me up, broke me, and changed me. I’ll tell you about how much better I’m doing, how my friends were there for me when you no longer were and maybe we’ll even laugh at that the stories about the guys that came after you but couldn’t compare to you. They’ll never be the first boy I gave my heart to who didn’t give me his heart in return.


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