Lola Rose Wright
Stories (1/0)
An Open Letter To My First Love
My first breakup was almost 3 years ago. I was 15 and in what felt like love with my best friend. Heartbreak is a difficult thing to describe unless the person you are explaining it to has experienced it themselves. I've gone through a fair number of things in my brief 18 years, none of which I will divulge here, but my first breakup is still the cause of the most pain that I have ever felt.So this is to you, an open letter.I highly doubt that you will read it, but I'd like to start by pleading that you read until the end, I'm not bitter anymore, I'd just like a favour, for the good times we had, as friends, and whilst we were together.For the sake of keeping you anonymous, I'll refer to you as John.To John,It's been a long time since we've spoken now, you blocked me on a good number of social media sites after the breakup to ensure cutting me off was kept simple and quick. I don't know why you would want to hurt me like that, we were friends for years, John. I remember meeting you for the first time, you had a crush on my best friend! (I know you don't speak to her anymore, so in case you were wondering, I don't think she's doing too great at school. I think she's finding making new friends a little daunting, but her relationship is going well, maybe message her if you get the time, you always made her laugh, she could use that right now.)The first time I spoke to you was to urge you on to ask her on a date, because I knew that she really liked you. Who wouldn't? You were shy, but once you opened up to someone you were really funny, sweet, loved dogs, were a great older brother and all these other wonderful things that I thought made you absolutely amazing, and perfect for my best friend, let's call her Jane. Although I don't think she likes that name (sorry, Jane). You asked her to go on a date when I said to you 'She likes confident guys.' and nudged you with my elbow; this was 5 years ago, but I can still remember it clear as day. Walking down the street on our way home from school in late summer, the air felt warm and the sun had already begun to set. I miss that, walking home with you.You went on a date shortly afterwards, there had been a sex scene in the film that had made you feel so awkward you told me that you'd gone bright red. You were so embarrassed that you spilt the popcorn from your lap on the way to the bathroom, nice one, John. You didn't go on a date again afterwards, but we'd started to become friends at that point, as you used to confide in me and tell me about your crush on Jane, not knowing who else to turn to or ask for help other than her best friend for 'female advice', you said.
By Lola Rose Wright7 years ago in Humans