A Love Letter To My First (And Last) Love

There was always something between you and me. This cosmic, intertwining soul connection. Something about you was like we had been doing this on repeat for lifetimes. You, my love, were the very definition of my insanity.

There were summer days of, “Tag! You’re it!” and long nights of endless phone calls. There was that ever blossoming bloom of love steadily growing in my heart—a feeling that felt familiar. A comfort I took in being near and around you. It was instant. It was unnerving. It was like vertigo falling for you. Yet I never wanted to land.

The day I had to let you go my heart broke into all the pieces of stars lining the night sky. You and I were never supposed to end. We were meant to cling to each other forever. But forever ended and we lost touch. You were always on my mind, though. Always in my heart. Poetry collections were penned in honor of you. Our love would live on in lined notebooks and spilled ink if I had my way.

And then fate stepped in. I owe her a solid. The day we reconnected it was all still there. All the love. All the fireworks. It was as if not a moment had passed even though the years had carried us into adulthood. All the others were just practice, or placeholders, holding your spot in the line of my heart.

I spent half of my life knowing love was out there for me, I never realized I was waiting on you. I always felt like something was missing. I just never knew I was missing you. When it’s real, it’s meant to be. Time nor distance can change what’s meant for you when it comes to love. We just needed to have better timing.

First love, my last love, I think we’ll finally get it right this lifetime.

About the author
A lover of words, books, and wine. The hopeless romantic. Follow Tiffany on Instagram or read more articles from Tiffany on Thought Catalog.

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