Tuesday, November 24, 2015

A letter to my first heartbreaker.

Yes, I'm fully aware it has been several months since I posted anything about anything, and though I can't deny the fact that I get lazy (because that's 90% of why), the reason why I got lazy and too unmotivated to do anything is simply this: my heart was broken.

No details are necessary, and though I'm doing my best to move on, the light at the end seems to keep getting further and further away. But having my fantastic support system that I wouldn't trade the for the world, days are a little bit easier, and a little more bearable.

Back to the point. I've been told by a couple of people that to help myself move on, I should write him a letter. Now, writing this (pardon my French) royal douchebag (I'm usually better than that, but you didn't know the guy!) a letter and sending it to him is out of the question (when you've decided to cut him out of your life, you don't go back). There's no shame in writing him a letter and not sending it to him, and what better way to be passive-aggressive about it than to post it on a public blog of mine?

Not only will this help with my healing, but I hope that any of you out there, man, woman, boy, or girl alike, who can or may relate completely to what I went through and am currently going through, will realize that you are not alone. We all go through this, some worse than others, but the key thing is: you are not alone.

And here's the beginning of my letter:

To my first love;

There are so many things I want to say to you. First I want to say how much and why I love you.

I love you more than I've ever loved any other person on a romantic level. I have never felt this way before, and though it scares me, I know 100% that I always will love you. No one can move on from this strong of a feeling, and you know what, I don't want to. We connected (whether you believe it or not) on so many levels, and there will always be something there between us, and you know it can't be let go. As hard as we both try, we will never let go of that. And that's okay by me.

I miss you. I miss how nervous you were around me; I miss how you didn't know how to ask me to hang out. I miss how often you'd tell me how beautiful I am. I miss just being with you, hanging out, listening to great music that you'd introduce to me, hoping that I'd like it too. I have enjoyed every single song you've played for me (with a select few strange ones I just never understood...), and I still listen to most of them. It hurt to hear these songs for a while, being reminded of you and the way you'd sing or rap to me, looking deep into my eyes and genuinely excited to share this one part of your personality with someone like me. I miss going for hikes and being outdoors and enjoying fresh air with you. I miss driving you around this city and showing you some of the best spots that I know. I miss finishing work and seeing a message from you on my phone, wanting to hang out with me. I miss having talks about our pasts and reminiscing about mutual childhood memories. I miss dropping you off and watching as you wondered if you should kiss me goodbye or not. I miss when you'd be genuinely upset if I couldn't hang out with you because of work or whatever the situation was. I miss the fact that I was not comfortable with my own crazy until I met yours and was free to be or do whatever I wanted with no judgement. I miss those looks where all you wanted to do was make me smile so you tried joking, or magic tricks, or dancing, just to see me crack a smile. I miss you, and I miss us.

But I also hate you. I hate the fact that you lied to me. You had such little respect for me that you couldn't even have the decency to tell me you've moved on and you've grown tired of whatever we had. I hate you for being an asshole to my friends. I hate you for being the biggest jerk to me whenever I wanted to be real with you. I hate you for every time you made me cry. I hate how you turned from being the sweetest, happiest, most genuine guy to me, to a scary, menacing, evil, manipulative shithead so quickly. I hate you for showing me that guys can be selfish, ignorant, arrogant assholes, but lie to you to get what they want. I hate you for making me feel so good about myself and then shutting down every fucking word I say or thought I have. I hate you for blinding me enough that I could only see the good side because I loved you so much. I hate you for scaring me into thinking that if I admitted to you how I really feel, it would be shut down and I would lose the one person I would be heartbroken over losing.
I hate you for being my first love. I hate that it had to be you. I hate it.

I want to thank you. I want to thank you for bringing me out of my shell, and making me see that even though I already find myself beautiful in many ways, there are many ways I don't realize how beautiful I am, but you saw those things and opened my mind to those things. I want to thank you for the positive changes I've made in my own life after meeting you. Thank you for opening up my eyes to the harsh reality of where people come from and what makes them who they are. Thank you for showing me that I can be loved, and I can fall in love. Thank you for helping me to realize that you are not the be all and end all of love for me.
Thank you for breaking my heart so that I could find the courage and strength to put it back together; it has made me connect with myself more than I ever have.

Everything happens for a reason, and I have zero regrets. I've lived, I've loved, I've learned,
and I'm living one more time, and I will love again. Thank you, you beautiful asshole, for breaking my heart.

**first photo is of an art piece and a skateboard belonging to (and painted by) the beautiful asshole. second photo is a quote I like to live by (not sure where I found it). third photo is the top of a pizza box I painted on. and final photo was graffiti also done by the beautiful asshole.

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