To The Girl In The Green Hoodie

We were both seventeen. I still remember how it was like the first time I ever saw you, you wore a bright green hoodie and had your hair tied up in a high ponytail. I thought that you were the most beautiful girl in the world. As corny as it sounds, the first time you ever caught my eye, time literally came to a standstill. We started dating and things were going smoothly, and like all seventeen year olds, I screwed it up. I started wanting more. I decided I was young and was entitled to have “fun”. And so I left you, with a broken heart.

Time passed, and I did all the things I assumed to be “fun”. And yet, I felt empty. And so I texted you and asked you out. I realised you were still hung up on me and I decided to exploit that. I thought I had “game”, but it was your love that I had and I failed to see that. You were always there when I called or texted you, always eager to see me, always hoping that maybe this time when I came back to you, I would stay. But I didn’t.

This went on for awhile. Even as we settled into serious relationships, I would still text you for a meet-up and you would always say yes. I didn’t think much of it at that time, but every time I saw you, a part of me inside would come to life. It was never the same with the other girls I dated. I was never contented with them. You continued believing that this time when I’m back, I would stay. But I didn’t.

I became very good at the “game” I played and I thought that I was having “fun”. I went in and out of several relationships, dated several more girls, and my friends would always tell me that they were envious of me for having so much freedom, for having so much “fun”, and always having a new girl around my arms. But I still felt empty and you were still hanging around waiting for me. There were times I thought to myself that maybe I should stop and just go back to you, to the girl that gave me the feeling of true happiness, to the girl whom I never felt empty with, to the girl that was very possibly my soulmate. But I didn’t.

There was one night, I was out partying as usual, and you happened to be having a girl’s night out as well and we both got drunk. We started talking and with alcohol as a catalyst, your emotions ran wild. Crying, you told me how much you hated me and that you missed me as hell and that you wished I had came back to you because you would have accepted me into your heart even though I had hurt you so badly. I should have told you the same, that I spent every waking moment thinking about you, that I couldn’t love anyone the way I loved you, that no one made me happy the way you did, but I didn’t.

Now after six years, I finally realised how superficial I was, how stupid and foolish I was to trade the love of my life for all this “fun”. I decided to come back to you, decided that this time, I would stay. I reached out to you, thinking that you would let me in to your heart. I asked for another chance, begged for you to believe in me just one last time. But you didn’t.