Cierto como la vida misma.

Dear Nathan,

I say dear because you are still dear to me. I know that no matter how much time passes, no matter how far I go in my life, I will still hold you in my heart. You were my first love, and people are right when they say you will never forget the first person you fall in love with. Which is sad, because sometimes those people don’t deserve your love; they don’t deserve to be remembered forever. And I still haven’t decided if you do. 

I loved you so much dear. I loved you more than was safe, more than what was sane. I loved you with everything inside of me. And I know that you loved me to. Just maybe in a different way than I. I love without boundaries; without limits, and I’ve come to realize this is stupid on my part. I wanted to be with you all the time. I missed you every second I wasn’t with you. You were literally always on my mind. Ever single minute of every single day for the year and a half we were together. Even now, you are here, drifting around the fringes of my consciousness  though not nearly as much as you were before.

I don’t know if I still love you. I feel like I do sometimes. Other times, not so much. Sometimes I hate you with every fiber, because this, this situation that we are in, is all your fault. You were the one who decided I wasn’t enough for you first. You were the one who started talking to other girls behind my back. You were the one who pushed me away when all I wanted to do was be there. That day you told me that you didn’t want to see and talk to me all the time, well that’s when I made myself begin to stop loving you. And logically, I know that you had every right to say this, but that didn’t stop my heart from breaking. I cried the entire drive home that day. I pulled over and decided right then and there to never need someone more than they needed me; to never love someone as much as they loved me. You taught me that. You taught me that whoever cares less has the control. 

So I started slowly pulling myself away. Yeah, I still hung out with you and did the things we had always done, but I was stealing my heart back from you piece by piece, locking it away deep inside, telling myself I could do this, I could stop loving you. If you would have payed attention you would have noticed I stopped saying “I love you” as much as I used to. I stopped asking to hang out as much. My eyes darted from yours, not wanting to make contact because I knew that if I looked, really looked into your blue eyes, as endless and bright as the sky, I would just fall all over again.

I broke up with you because I knew it was the right thing to do. I knew that we were going different places in our lives. In 20 years I plan on being thousands of miles away from here. And I know that you will still be living in this small town, completely content. And this fact makes me sad. It makes me sad that sometimes love isn’t enough. Maybe a strong enough love, a selfless love, like the love I had for you at one time. But I couldn’t do it by myself. My love wasn’t enough for two. If only you would have put in a little more; given a little more instead of always just taking more and more from me until I ran dry. 

I wish you would have because I miss you. I hate admitting it. But I miss you and that’s just a fact and a feeling I’m just going to have to learn to live with I guess.