When I first fell in love I was 19 years old and completely positive I was going to marry this boy.
When I had to move away 4 months after meeting you, I cried so hard at the airport I made myself sick. That should've been my first sign- loving you put me in the hosptial. But instead I thought this was a sign that we were destined to be soulmates and our love could last forever. I remember the first time you told me you loved me. We were laying in my bed tangled up in the messiness of each other and I could see it in your eyes. We were both nervous like kids on the first day of school, excited but unsure of what to expect. You could see it in my eyes too. I asked you what you were thinking about and you said, "I don't want to scare you" and I knew. I assured you "you won't scare me" and suddenly "I love you" was spilling off your lips like drool. When we were apart, which was often since the next year of our relationship was long distance, I always felt less than whole. Like a piece of me was missing, That should've been my secound sign- love should never make you feel complete. You should feel complete on your own and love should only add to the beauty you already possess. Instead, you stole a piece of me. Pieces so small I didn't even notice they were missing. And I guess I cannot call you a thief because I would've given them to you anyway. Which is why I feel as though I cannot blame a single ounce of our imperfect love on you becuase you probably didn't know how to love me any better than I knew how to love myself. I didn't love myself enough to know, or at least to acknowledge and accept, that I should have left long ago. Long before our lives were interwinded like a delicate spider web. Before I fell in love with your family; your sisters and your grandparents. Before I fell in love with the relationship you have with your bestfriend of 20 years. The longer I stayed the grander the heartbreak grew. The harder it became to walk away. The more I wanted more than anything- for you to be my one. But the universe does not care about what you want if what you want is not good for you. And you were not good for me. And I was not good for you. We simply were not good for each other- despite how badly we wanted to be. I think that's why we both stayed for so long, long after happiness left our home. We closed our front door, double bolting the dead lock, shutting out the monsters- failing to realize they lived inside of us. But we were not scared of each other. We were scared of a life without each other and that was the scariest part of all. You think as you get older that monsters no longer exist, but that's not true. They just show up in different unfimiliar forms disguised as your favorite kind of candy. Insecurity, self-doubt, fear, finances, loneliness, heartbreak, dissapointment, and you. A brown eyed, brown haired, bearded boy who showed me what it was like to love without boundries. Not to love fearlessly, but to love despite the fears. Yout taught me a lot about love and a lot about myself. And eventually, in the most painful way possible, you taught me how to love myself enough to know that I could no longer love you. At least not in the way I had originally intended. You will forever own many of my firsts and I will never regret giving those to you, for they had to go to somebody. And I couldn't have picked a better person than the person who gave me the greatest gift of all. So thank you. For so long I thought you had stolen so much from me, when in realitly you were giving me the tools I needed to find myself, love myself, and to be myself unapologetically. And to finally acknowledge and accept- I deserved to be truly happy, and I had to do it without you.