To the first man I ever loved,
It’s not an exaggeration when I said you were my sun. From the first moment we met, there was some sort of gravitational pull that attracted me to you, that even though I tried to escape from it, I couldn’t.
I was trapped in orbit, helplessly revolving around you as though my life depended on it. You were everything to me. My hopes, my dreams, my plans, they came alive at the touch of your proximity. You made me want for something else and you broke down the walls I built around me. With the first brick you pried loose, sunlight came trickling in. I fell, hard, mesmerized at this soft light that I hadn’t seen in a while. It was like I was seeing colors for the first time.
But I was only one planet and you had the entire universe before you. You were always looking at stars beyond your solar system, reaching planets your light couldn’t reach. And for a moment, when I thought I had your heart in my hand, comets came passing by and your eyes followed them, longing for adventures and places I’ve never been to. You were my sun but I was only one planet and I could never quite reach you. Our lives merely collided but we never really fit together.
I have found my place, my moment and I plan to keep it even if you aren’t there. Yes, you were my sun. But that was before. You aren’t now and you won’t be in the future.
You are only a fracture of a moment, a fleeting memory I will look back to from time to time. A random thought that would make me smile and hope that you finally found what you wanted, that life had been kinder to you than it was to me. You were a lesson I had to learn but you were never mine to keep.