Similarly to eightbitsamurai, I had written a post before this. But it's really close to his story, just felt it should me mentioned. Actually two. I tend to do that. I've written about 30 posts to this site that I just don't publish. My first love was the most recent, the one before that couldn't be called love.

I've been fucked up since I met her, possibly because I met her, though it really didn't have to be her. I just wanted to be fucked up as a teenager, for some reason. It was cool back then, but looking back, I was still an idiot.

We met at a party that I invited her best friend to. I was 15, drunk, and had no recollection of her whatsoever, but since I was a year older and presumably "cool", she remembered me. The real time I met her was at cross country. A look here, and a "I think I left my iPod at practice" text later, we texted a lot and we went on a date. She was forward. I liked that.

We started seeing each other regularly, and progressed into a relationship phase where I refused to have a relationship. I didn't trust anyone. And I never really did trust her, even after we started dating, for a long long time.

Eventually I got convinced that we were kind of in love. She loved me, which was obvious, but I wasn't really ready. A pretty tumultuous situation happened, and I decided I would tell her I loved her. Did I? At that point? Maybe. But I thought it was a good time for sure to say so.

We had a great relationship for a while, but I was too emotional. She loved me enough that she didn't care though. We had a great time, until I got bored with it. Eventually I found a good enough reason to leave her for the first time.

I didn't take it well and we started talking again. At this point I was hooking up with a bunch of other friends who I had been interested in, and they were interested in me. My first love and I started sleeping together again. I was still with other girls and I just didn't say that I was since I could morally make it okay by being ambiguous about every relationship I had at that point.

I went to college, she came and visited pretty often, I was still sleeping with other people, according to her, she wasn't. I believe her, who knows. Eventually that continued until she wanted to be serious again when I was a sophomore, and I said no, but 5 months later wanted to do the same thing, and she said okay for a week, then just left me. We talked often for a few weeks after that, then less often. Eventually, a few weeks ago, we stopped talking at all.

Do I regret it? Hell yes I do. Would I go back? Who knows, I haven't been given the chance. I guess two chances was it, and I blew it. I wanted more but I wanted freedom, and my own uncertainty gave in to a huge loss. Eventually I really did love her for everything.

Who knows if anyone will actually read this wall, but if you did, it was kind of nice to write everything down like that in this wall of text. Dunno if I'll get any feedback, but it would be nice.