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Not all first loves are what they seem.

Don’t we all just love being shown the slightest bit of attention from someone. And yet, that attention can turn out to be the worst break up you could ever imagine. Because attention will make you want more. It will make you jealous. 

You lie to yourself that it is nothing. That there are no feelings and that you’re just enjoying the company. But the more you lie about your feelings, the more attached you’ll get towards the person. And it all begins at ‘I just enjoyed the attention I was getting.’ But you know that the person is not good for you, and that their toxic personality is draining you out. We think we can change them, and that if we stay long enough, we can heal their brokenness. But we can’t. They have to find themselves before they find you.

I have met a boy who was so broken that he wanted to hide behind my security, my confidence. And like a ‘fool,’ I had thought I could heal him, mend his wounds. But his scars ran deeper than I had known. Mistakes happen, we can move on. But going through a year and a half with him making the same ‘mistake,’ telling the same lies, you could even say I was an idiot for having forgiven him so many times. But I had to forgive him so that I could heal myself. 

Being made to feel worthless and used is very dangerous and you could wonder ‘how can I forgive such a person who made me feel this way?’ And the truth is that I had fallen for him. After all the pain and suffering we have gone through together, I had fallen for the broken boy that he was; for his insecurities and his imperfections. But I knew that there is no choice for me but to reject his love because during that time, I had felt so emotionally violated, walking on eggshells around him. He was such an emotional wreck that being called an ‘over thinker’ can not even begin to describe what he was.  He is still a long way from finding himself. It has all ended because of selfish desires, claiming that he loved me. “Coward. You would not dare say that to my face. You were able to hide behind the screen of your telephone, finding ways and excuses to convey as I rejected or comforted you because I could not give you what you so deeply prayed for. You could not tell me I looked beautiful to my face. You found safety in messaging me. All those wonderful messages I had received meant nothing if you couldn’t say them when I was next to you. You’d say I was the wife of your dreams and yet you treated me like I was your enemy. But oh, how I miss your touch, your humour, your smile.”

I have asked for a break, for some time apart to find ourselves. But he would not accept it, often using my words against me, unleashing guilt. And yet, when he had ended it all, it was because he felt the need to move on, having cut all contact with me, messaging that it was time for both of us to get over it. And I stood there, in the middle of the night, releasing a single sigh, replying back ‘‘OK.’’ I could have ruined him then and there, making him feel as empty and meaningless as I felt. But I didn’t. My last words to him were, “Thank you.”

“Oh but why couldn’t you tell me in the morning? Why couldn’t you have ended it all when I was least vulnerable? In my resting place you took away my comfort.”

There was love. A love I can’t explain. But it was a love that had to be sacrificed.

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