For the longest time I thought I was in love. I always thought he was my first love and in the end I found out indeed I've been hurt and lied to. Whatever comfort I sought in his lies were eventually broken away with maturity and age. Putting myself in his shoes and being able to understand his position has its pluses and minuses. I now know how much effort and how hard it must have been for him to keep everything together and I respected him for that. But seeing things from his perspective also spoke truths behind his lies, and made clear of my own naivete.

White lies can hurt. Maybe he lied to keep us together, maybe he lied for my sake, whatever I don't know can't hurt me right? But white lies pile up and to a certain point, they become unforgivable. A string of lies can spin itself into a web of manipulation and that's exactly how I feel looking back on it all, manipulated.

I've been wanting to avoid thinking about it for the longest time. I always believed I had the upperhand in most situations, that I was in control and incapable of letting feelings get to me. Perhaps it was also the fact that everything about him and about what we had seemed too magical to be corrupt, too pristine to be tainted. That 'first' boyfriend status needed to stay holy and sacred, the branded impression of the 'first' in my memories HAD to be a perfect fairytale one, because if it was anything else, that would've meant I failed. Why do I try so hard to achieve perfection knowing that it's impossible?

I have to admit that I really do miss those days even if they were not quite what they seem. I also admit no one else has been able to make me feel the way he made me feel. I miss having conversations about nothing for hours on end, never running out of things to say. I miss familiarity, even routineness could be happiness. I miss having someone to miss. At the same time, I'm constantly afraid that I will never have that back, that feeling only a 'first' could deliver. Still, I have been given hope, it is frail, but as strong as ever.

I still don't know what love is. I was in love with the idea of us, the idea of him. By all means, I tried to guard that idea, I tried to freeze it and frame it, I tried so hard that I ignored all the scratches on the surface and looked right through them, at a picture seemly perfect. Or it could be the opposite. Maybe I loved him so much I trusted whatever he told me even if I knew better. I wanted to believe him because I loved him. Yet, how could it be love for one to stay so guarded? Why did I feel the need to keep score or gain the upper hand? To me, true love is something that can make me ignore all that, falling in love means unconditional, selfless love. What I felt was far from that, it was anything BUT self-less. But is it REALLY possible to forget about oneself and love someone else like that? Enough to let them go?

I guess only time will tell. It's kind of funny to think after all these years, I'm finally writing an entry that will give me closure. I'm finally closing the book on that one chapter of my life that I've overlooked and tried to ignore for so long. I don't even know what empowered me to think about all this, I guess I've just come to terms with myself and what really happened. There are some things you can forgive that you can't forget. I have forgiven a long time ago, and tried countless times to forget.

Nevertheless, I'm ok with not forgetting. It just makes things hard because I have lost so much respect for this person I was once so close to. I've also tried, on several attempts to at least save our friendship for the sake of friendship. He may have tried for different reasons, mainly out of guilt I speculate. But everytime I remember, I lose respect for him all over again and it's just so hard. It also just so happens everytime we interact, something will always make me remember. Like I said, I wish I could forgive AND forget, the latter seems impossible. I have finally come to the conclusion that it's not worth trying and I'm sick of trying. I'm only human after all.

So that's that. End of story. Chapter closed. I wish you could have stayed in my mind much more as you are now, but you've reduced yourself to much less than I've hoped. Good luck and good bye. May you live forever.

-Maria