My First Love Moved On

Hemovedon

The unthinkable happened.  My first love moved on and I hate it.  I hate it because I’m single and lonely, and he’s with his pretty girlfriend smiling and happy and crap.  Damn.  I wasn’t prepared for this.  I don’t exactly want him back, but why couldn’t he have waited until I found someone handsome and caring and all-around amazing?  Why did he have to be first?  Why are they doing the things we never did?  Why is he smiling so hard with her in all those stupid Instagram pictures?  Why do I all of a sudden miss those stupid texts from him telling me how much he misses me?  Why do I have all these stupid girly feelings? Ugh! 

I try to remind myself of all the things I couldn’t stand about him when we were together (and he had plenty), but the truth is that he was a really good guy.  We just didn’t work out.  We are two different people, with different desires, heading in opposite directions.  They’ll always be a part of me that cares about him deeply, but it was time for things to end.  We held on to the past for far too long, trying to force something that was dead a long time ago, turning to each other in times of confusion and loneliness.  He was my security blanket.  No matter how bad the world treated me, I knew I could rely on him for comfort and a good day.

We’re still good friends and talk to each other on occasion.  Our conversations are always filled with good memories and laughter.  The last time we talked, he told me that it was past time for me to get back out there and find someone.  He’s right.  The problem with that is that I‘ve never found anyone else who even comes close to treating me the way that he did.  I, of course, have never told him this and more than likely never will.  No sense of holding on to the past.  Especially since he seems so happy with his new girlfriend.  I have to keep telling myself that there is an awesome guy out there for me, and that he will be totally worth the wait.  Maybe one day I’ll actually believe it.

image- he(art)geek


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