A Final Letter To My First Love

Sometimes I get curious if you still remember the way we spent our childhood together. I wonder if you miss the times when we spent our weekends outside, running, playing hide-and-seek, and having picnics at the tree house. I wonder if you are thankful that our innocence wasn’t destroyed by technology. I wonder if you’re also one of those people who love to say you’re a 90s baby.

I always wonder if you remember the moment when we hit puberty, and when we looked at each other differently. Because my heart occasionally makes me want to remember.

I remember the first time when we suddenly got shy towards each other, and knew something was brewing. I remember the day when we admitted our special feelings to one another. I remember how you stuttered, and how I panicked at our revelations.

I remember the way I balked when our schoolmates teased us, as we walked to the cafeteria together. I remember how you squeezed my hands to reassure me that we’re going to be fine. I remember how proud of me you were, whenever I won an award in extra-curricular activity or when I aced a test.

I remember how we basically grew up side by side.

I look back on all the good things that we shared — first kiss, first dance, first “I love you”, first date, first public display of affection. But I try not to recall the way we fell apart, the way we grew cold, the way our love simmered down. Because that’s not how you’re supposed to remember your first love.

You’re supposed to remember your first romance as that one experience when you realized that love is more than just a chemical reaction – it is more than science. It is a feeling that sometimes you have no words to explain. It is an emotion that is confusing, yet beautiful.

And I choose to remember my first love that way. I choose to remember you that way.

I spent several years writing about you, talking about you to my notebooks, and wishing they would give me answers about why we didn’t work out. I spent some months pondering whether I should explain myself to you, and convince you to be in a relationship with me again. I spent thousands of seconds missing you, aching about the thought of you, and hoping that I could touch you again.

But it was almost a decade ago.

It would be silly to still cling to this feeling, to you, to the idea of us. It wouldn’t make sense to spend more nights thinking about you. My mind has become worn out for wishing a future together. My heart has become tired of waiting for you.

So here I am, sighing, typing, reminiscing, and writing you my final letter.

We didn’t turn out to be everything I hoped for, but that’s alright. I already swallowed the truth that we weren’t really meant for each other. We were just two stars that collided at a certain time, to learn the lessons that we could take in our future relationships. I had an incredible time with you, and I hope that you did too.

I wouldn’t be who I am right now if it wasn’t for your love.

So for the last time, I wish to tell you how joyful I am with where you are right now. I’m happy with the life that you’re leading. I’m proud of the choices that you have made. I’m glad you’re content with the person you’re in a relationship with. I’m pleased to see that you’re still close to your parents. I’m delighted to know that you’re doing just fine.

So for the last time, I wish to tell you that I’m finally letting you go.

I will no longer visit your page when I’m lonely. I will say goodbye to all the wishful thinking that lived inside my mind for years. I will not let myself be stuck with our memories. And I will completely move on.

But for the last time, I wish to tell you that even if we didn’t end up together – you will always be my first love.