The One that Got Away

When I was 15 years old, I looked across the room and made eye contact with the first boy who, for reasons I still cannot fully understand, I fell head over heels for. At 15, I was so new to the world of love and dating- yet to hold any preconceived notions or expect anything. 

He wasn’t exactly available, however, and as you could guess I ended up heartbroken. But the story doesn’t end there, because despite the intuition that should have been there telling me to run, I couldn’t stay away. The next two years were a back and forth tango in which one of us would ultimately do something to mess everything up and we’d start all over. Never actually in a relationship- just balancing on the edge of one. It was horrible, yet wonderful at times… a train wreck of a way to relate to another person. My senior year things came to a head somewhere in the spring- when I began to realize that things between us would never happen.

He came to my house the day of my graduation to pick up some extra tickets that I had. He drove up in his pickup truck and I walked out to meet him barefoot, blinking in the sunshine and muggy heat in my white graduation dress. I felt something in that moment- an ending. So much time I had spent wanting him, and here I was- leaving. We were finally going our separate ways, and things between us would really be over… forever. The reality of it crashed over me as I watched him drive away, part of me screaming at him to come back and the other part hushing her.

We are all a little fragile. Scared of the big wide world and the people in it that could hurt us. Often, we have reason to be afraid. But sometimes things like that can make you feel alive. Make you willing to fight for something, and learn when it’s the right time to pull out. Sometimes you’ll be too late and walk away with a few battle scars. I don’t doubt that there will always be a small piece of my heart that’s a little damaged. Once in a blue moon, a part of me feels so heartbreakingly sad about all that time and all those emotions that went no where and I feel as if I could fall apart at any second. But it’s supposed to be like that, isn’t it? We never quite forget out first loves.

Life moves forward. People grow up and change. You can never get those first feelings of stomach twisting, hand sweating, heart throbbing, puppy love back. 

We’re often taught to forget, scorn, and hate the people that first broke our hearts… But I’m not sure if that’s entirely healthy, because being bitter isn’t going to get you anywhere. You just have to move on, and grow, and learn to somehow see it all in a positive light. So I guess I’m hoping that if I throw all this out there into the great ocean of the world I’ll finally be free and get the peace that I was always searching for. 

I’m never going to forget the boy with blue grey eyes that first stole my heart, and a part of me hopes he never forgets me either. He is the reason I am a stickler for grammar, love family guy, and stick up for my beliefs. He taught me lessons, and if I had never met him I wouldn’t be where or who I am today. And for that… I am grateful indeed

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