To My First Love

I was young. You were a few years older than I was. I had never met you. Looking back on it now, the whole situation seems a little stupid, maybe even a little odd at the time. It's become almost natural for people now though, meeting someone online. Except I met you through a friend. I didn't know any better. I never thought anything of it. I remember when you told me about how beautiful I was and how you thought I was an angel, how I was saving your life just by being in it. It was nice to know someone thought I was beautiful. I was overweight and no one particularly favored me back then. I was used to people spitting on me, pushing me over and telling me how I reminded them of King Kong or a cow...but you didn't tell me that. You told me I was perfect. We talked on and on into the nights. You helped me with my insomnia. I remembered before you I would cry because I couldn't sleep. I wrote all over the walls, I burned things, I threw things...I held myself until I finally passed out. You would talk to me on the phone all night, kept me safe, kept me company. You never minded. Every morning, I would wake up to a text from you, telling me "Good morning, beautiful" and I would smile for a few minutes. I loved it. It reminded me that someone actually cared and thought I was special. It made me feel worth something. I mattered to someone. Everything was worth it at the end of the day because of you. A month went by, and it was the happiest month of my life all thanks to you. It wasn't too late, but it was evening. We were talking. It was casual, nothing too serious. You came out and told me you loved me. I didn't know what to say. I was scared. I couldn't say it back. It didn't feel right. No one had ever said that to me before besides family. I immediately cut you out of my life. You were gone and I tried everything I could to forget you. I needed space. I broke the silence that had been present for about a month or two, possibly three, and told you happy birthday on your birthday, June 8. I didn't expect a response. I didn't even expect you to know who I was anymore, just some random number with a completely different area code than yours. My heart was in tangles and my stomach was in knots. You answered. You told me thank you and naturally I said you're welcome. What I didn't expect after that was for you to continue messaging me. We started talking again, seeing how each other had been doing. It was nice. I had missed you, and you had missed me. I apologized later that day. I apologized for leaving and how rude it was for me. I told you I was scared and that was why I did it. You told me it was okay. You were scared too. You were happy I was back in your life. It was lonely without me. You hadn't smiled since I stopped talking to you. I was foolish to have believed every word, but regardless, I did. We went on after that and talked more and more each night, losing more and more sleep. I never had anything better to do. All I wanted to do was talk to you. I had my phone attached me at all times. I was always waiting for your text. I truly thought I loved you. I still never met you. To this day, in fact, I've not met you, nor do I ever wish to. It would be better not to. Later that year, I found out you were cheating on me. It broke my heart, shattered my world. I wanted to die. It would have been different if it were only one other girl. You were cheating on me with five other girls. You had told me you were in love with me and how I was the other one you ever wanted. You talked extensively with me about marriage and kids and where we would live, how our wedding would look like. We moved fast, but we were young and I thought I was in love with you like you claimed to be with me. I gave you a choice. I told you either you get rid of all of them or you keep me. You struggled with the decision. You were angry, but I kept telling you how I was everything you'd ever need, kept reassuring you. I didn't want to lose you. You hurt me to my breaking point by lying to me and ruining my image of you, but I still loved you. I still wanted you. We could fix this. Everything was going to be okay, it was going to be like it used to be. All the other girls were gone. You chose me. After that whole incident, however, everything was different. You were persistently moody. You were rarely happy anymore. I cried most nights. I felt like a failure. I couldn't keep you happy. Slowly, I formed the conclusion that it wasn't me that made you happy in the first place. It was having all six of us there that made you happy. You needed multiple people telling you they loved you in order to feel better about yourself. That was just who you were. Months and months went by of us arguing and fighting about pointless things. You repeatedly called me names, attacked my image and the way I looked. You built me up for so long and started tearing me down because I found out your little secret. You made me hate myself. You drove me to extreme lengths. I didn't want to leave my house. I couldn't look at myself in a mirror anymore without having a nervous breakdown. You ridiculed everything about me, things that you used to tell me you loved. You told me how stupid my opinions were, how I was too emotional, how I was a waste of your time, how you never loved me. You even started talking to my little sister, flirting with her, and she was only 11 at the time. I called you, near the brink of boiling over, and told you if you ever contacted her or me again I was going to call the cops. You messaged me three days after that...and I responded back. I let my naivety get the best of me. I wanted to keep talking to you. While you had driven me past the edge, I still loved you. I still wanted to have hope in you, hoped you could change, you could be different. A couple months after that, it was my birthday, which was on fall break. I made the effort to go and visit you with my family. You told me you couldn't make it. You avoided every effort I made to come and make any type of contact with you. You didn't want to see me, you were ashamed of me. You lied and covered everything with an excuse, but you never wanted to see me. The cat fights and long nights of emotional exhaustion and physical fatigue continued for about two years. I let you dominate my life for two years. In those two years, I grew, but not for the better. You made me insecure, you made me emotionally unstable, ashamed of myself and who I was, you lied to me and to this day I'm still unable to shake the constant paranoia I have when I start dating somebody new. I can't love myself anymore. Since you, I have lost all the weight, but because of your harsh criticism, I took it too far. Because of you, I still have emotional struggles, which are ever prevalent in new relationships that I start up. I can't be open with people in fears that you'll use what I tell them against me like you did. There are so many things I can't do and so many things I struggle with now because of you. I know they aren't really your fault, but you damaged me emotionally. You hurt me in ways no one should ever hurt their significant other. You completely threw away everything we had dreamed of, talked about, you threw away love. You destroyed everything that could have been and what now never will be. I don't write this to blame you necessarily. I primarily write this in order for me to get these things off my chest, in hopes that I can finally start to forget what you did to me, that I can finally move on...that I can leave things in the past. I needed closure from you and I never got it. This is my closure. I hope you ended up well off, as much as I'd also like to say I hope you burn in hell for what you did. I did love you. I loved you so much. You were my first love and always will be. You were also my worst love, and I wish you knew the full extent of the pain you caused. I hope you never cause any other girl the type of pain that you caused me, Thomas, and I hope you eventually mature a little. This is where I leave you, hopefully for good. Good-bye.