Are you happy?
You get to prance around with your girl, or whatever you have now if you realized she was a psycho, unaffected by the long-lasting impact what you did has caused me.
You were the first, and so far only guy I loved. The word “fuck buddies” used to leave a bad taste in my mouth when describing you to people because in my eyes you were so much more, and yet now it’s all I tell people we were because it’s easier than telling people how it felt to kiss you under the stars or how much I smiled whenever you texted me.
At one point or the other, the roles were switched and it was you that swore you had a thing for me. Maybe that was true, but my attention was elsewhere. All I know is that summer of 2014 I had suddenly took a liking for you. Was it the way you called me beautiful, or the way you kissed me in the rain by the Hudson River? Either way, I fell and fell hard for you. I would come to realize any old boy can call you beautiful or persuade you he want to be with you but I was eighteen and did not know any better.
I think about your eyes, your little smirk, your soft lips and oh god do I wish to rewind to that lovely summer and fall nearly two years ago and relive it all. I don’t even regret a single moment with you despite all the despair it came with.
“He’s just a dumb boy.” To me you were so much more. You were my reason to wake up every morning. You were the smile on my face and the beat of my heart. You were distinctive to any other guy I have met so far in my life. You were my friend, you were loyal and you would care enough to talk to me every day for months and months and get lowkey jealous when you saw me close with someone else. You did perhaps feel something too, or maybe it is just my perception that is blinded by love for you that is romanticizing even the littlest of things you did for me.
You were always the tears I shed for you each night. You were the influence of the darkest days of my life and the reason why I felt my heart shatter for the first time. You were the dark cloud that stayed over my head as I attempted to down those pills. You were the bruises on my wrists as I subjected to my harmful desires for the first time in a long time.
You were the first to present to me the cruelty of the real world. The people who betray you, who stomp all over your heart once they have it, those who see a vulnerable young person and use them to their advantage.
I gave you my body, my time, my love. When you finished with me, you ran off to her arms and left me with nothing but dead hope of me ever being able to call myself yours and with memories I wanted to force out my mind.
“My feelings are long gone.” Images of you and her. Facebook blocking. All of this while my mind lingered on you and only you and the wounds were still fresh. I briefly found comfort in the arms of another but you were still burned in the darkest depths of my mind.
You still are or else I wouldn’t be writing of you on a Thursday night with tears in my eyes of every embrace, kiss and painful exchange of words we shared in my head.
Not a day goes by where I don’t think of you. Even if I have given up hopes long ago of rekindling whatever it was we were and even if I have gained interest in other people since then, I will never forget you. Over a year has passed and I still remember your dark eyes, your cheeks I loved pinching so much, your soft body, the way you loved dark colors, your love for anime & gaming, your introverted nature, your dark sense of humor, how you seldom spoke with emotion, your perverted attitude equivalent to my own, your beautiful smile, how special you made me feel.
My god, how I wish I could go back in time and do it all again. Be stupidly in love without saying it and have that perception of you again. It wasn’t you, but yet it made me happier than I have ever been in my life.
But I can’t, it was not meant to be and as you said, your feelings are long gone. You refused me a chance because you were not seeking commitment yet you have a chance to someone else when you were done with whatever you wanted with me.
For the earliest parts of 2015, and even now, I sometimes wonder if I cross your mind. If you think of my face or pass by a place where we made memories and miss me too. If it pains you to say my name and if you wish to run into my arms again. I wonder if you long to tell me all your troubles and hardships you face as I do with you.
Have I impacted your life as you had mine?
Probably not. Probably just some stupid little overly attached vulnerable girl you fucked and nothing more. You have someone now to call your own while I’m left with the scars of what you have done to me. It is easy for you to love again while I can barely let anyone in without pushing them away regardless of how I feel about them out of fear of history repeating itself.
You don’t care about that because you got what you wanted from me. You don’t care about how I can no longer be with someone without questioning their every motive nor about how someone could grow attached easily than others and how every moment we shared was more intimate and romantic than any moment I shared with any other guy so far.
I question how can I love again? Will I ever be able to or will I always be reminded of you whenever I do so much as even get close to a guy? Will I stop pushing people away and learn to trust again? Will these memories and your face forever haunt me?
Will I ever stop caring so much about you even if you are no longer a part of my life?
Clearly not, as I still write about you after so much time has passed since we last shared an intimate moment together and I still remember you so well and since you have impacted so much the scars still show whenever I have a new chance at happiness with someone else.
And even if I was too full of shame to admit it and you don’t ever deserve to hear it, whenever someone talks of the first time I ever really loved I will think of you.