You are my first love. You are the first one I wished I spent my whole life with. You are the first one I gave my soul and my body to, and you are the first one I wanted to trust. But I never did. I never trusted you because of the other ‘not-first-ones,’ because they made me believe that love is not real because they made me fear the end. You were my first start, and for this, I have always given up to the idea of a painful end.
Anyone who saw it from outside would think that you were the most perfect, most romantic man on earth. You were perfect in the eyes of others, but not in the eyes of someone who has always been afraid of the end. Nobody would ever doubt your faith, but I did. I doubted every single day we were together, and every single moment we were apart. I had a feeling that you were into someone else, that you were not that attracted to me, or that your ex was still in your thoughts. And she was. I dreaded every day because I knew that you would finally tell me that there was no more room for me in your heart.
That confession was probably the first time I ever trusted you with whole my heart.
I am sorry I don’t trust you.
I am sorry I think you are not faithful.
I am sorry I failed you.
But, although my mind is ill and although anxiety takes possess of my body, I don’t regret failing at trusting you. Because ultimately, I was still right. Because all my fears came true.
I am sorry to be someone so fragile that a single word could shake my whole world, but you allowed this to happen. You never proved me wrong, you never tried to take that anxiety and fight it with me. You avoided it, and left me hollow, thinking about what girl was on your mind.
I tried to be strong because I love you. I tried to forgive you because I love you. But I could not sacrifice my heart because love should be healing me, not wound me.