I fell and I fell hard for my first boyfriend. Yet again this was an utter shock to my fact-based nature. I had always told myself I would not become one of those crazy girls who become a victim of emotion and a fool in love.
I sent you essay-long texts professing my love for you, reminding you of all of the good times we had together, pleading with you to give us one more chance. I used to have strict rules for myself regarding texting; I’d never initiate texts, only respond.
The best thing to do is to spill your beans, but do it in a way that people can’t recognize you.
Two weeks before I began my first semester of graduate school, you left me. You left me shocked, broken, and alone right before I started one of the most stressful periods of my life.
You took a lot away from me.
Now that it’s all over, all I have left are faint traces that outline our relationship.
There is no shame in it.
I developed a slew of commitment issues after he left.
This cycle of self-destruction and sexual compromising that I have found myself in has now translated to the rest of my life.
The idea of wasted sacrifice is too much. The thought of having made so much space for you in my busy, complicated life and my damaged psyche to be left with only pain and loneliness and the “lessons” I’ve learned is too much to accept.