I loved you first.

And no matter what, and no matter who you pick to be your wife, and no matter who you grow old with, just remember I loved you first. Just remember you loved me first. And nothing can change that. No one can change that.

Maybe it’s selfish of me, or perhaps narcissistic of me. Maybe I feel a bit possessive over you. Or maybe I just wish you still felt the same about me as you did before. Maybe I just wish you still loved me.

Nothing went as planned for us. But I guess seeing you and meeting you and loving was never something I expected.

But I also didn’t expect you to go.

It’s been so long that I feel so stupid for caring. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t feel like this or be like this. You moved on quickly. Why couldn’t I? You fell in love again. Why didn’t I?

I used to think our souls were intertwined. I used to think that whatever I felt, you could be there for me. You would always be there for me, no matter the breakup and the messes that we made. And no matter how much time had passed, I always thought you’d stick around. At the very least, just be there when I needed you. To forget that you were gone and just for a minute live in the past.

Because the past with you was my favorite thing. And it was so real. You were so real.

But now, you’ve moved on with another girl. A second one. And I want to tell her that it’s not fair. That I want to hate her, but I can’t because I understand why. I understand why any person would love you.

You were so easy to love and to adore. I don’t blame her.

Yet, I sit here in my apartment and it’s so quiet I can feel my heart beat in my ears. It’s strange to me that this is the same heart that you used to rely on. That my heart is still the heart that you loved three years ago.

But this heart doesn’t have a place for you anymore. And you don’t have an inch of me in yours. At least not anymore.

I just always thought that our friendship would outlast our time on this earth. I thought that at the very least, we could still be ‘us’. But then you said that you couldn’t be that person for me now. That you can’t be who you used to be for me.

And I get it. And I understand. And I think I’d probably really like her, you know. I guess we have a lot in common. We have you in common.

But still, I need you to know I loved you first. I need you to remember that you loved me first. And I need her to hear those words and to wish she were me. Just for a second. I don’t know why I need it. Maybe just to know our love was real. Maybe just to know that you used to care.

I had you first. Maybe I need to convince myself of that, too.