So I'm going through my old things. It's time for some spring cleaning. Over the years I've piled up all these notes and sketches and trivial things. I found some letters from a friend.
I found the notebook of my first love.
I can tell it was him. I remember thinking I was badass because I had a boyfriend. The fact that he was older made added points to my ego. His name is written here & there. Oh and lyrics from this one song he dedicated to me are found etched on the notebook. It's funny how I remember so much from him. Like the bands he encouraged me to continue listening to. Or how we would laugh for hours on the phone. For some strange reason I don't remember much of the pain of the break-up. I thank my brain for that. However I do feel pain when I remember the good times, mainly because they were so quickly taken away from me.
He broke up with me. The details, as in the reasons, are iffy.
I'm just reminiscing right now. We were so good together. Too bad he broke my heart. He's like the guy that I'm meant to be with yet I shouldn't be with. I'm glad I got over him. I really am. I was so in love with him. I remember two years later, after the break-up, I still loved him. And he is totally to blame for the reason I was so mean to myself. He showed me so much and I'm thankful for that. Him and another showed me what I'm worth. I don't love him anymore.
I can talk to him but I can hardly trust him as a friend. It's weird that I went from 100% love to just meh. Well not weird, more amazing, like he said he broke my heart (a few times).
Wow, the shit an old notebook can bring.
-ChesterYaYa
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