Pieces about my first love

He doesn’t love you.

Those are the words that I say to myself whenever I start to  assume things.

Whenever he’s with me, he would give me this impression that maybe it’s the other way around, that maybe… just maybe, he has feelings for me too.

Three years have passed since the day I fell for him. I could not even recall how it started. Right now I’m sure as hell three years were clearly not enough for me to forget him.

Some would say that I should have been brave enough to confess what I feel for him, but I was a coward like any other protagonist in an unrequited love story, I was too afraid to hear the truth directly from him.

I faced the reality on my own. I knew from the beginning there would never be an us. To have him fall for me was next to impossible.

Did I fall too easily? Maybe…

Did I expect him to catch me? Yes.

The painful truth about unrequited love is that you fall alone, you love alone, and still in the end, you get hurt alone.

While growing up I have always been an introverted emotional kid. I’ve always kept the emotional part of my life in the pages of my journal and chose a happy fascade for everyone to see. I used to own a journal seven years ago that was filled with my whirlwind themed love story with my first love. I emphasized on the word my because from the beginning to end I never made a huge impact in his life, in contrary to mine. He was once the center of my universe (immature teenager’s perspective), while I was just a character in the sideline in his. By the way, the journal I mentioned has now turned to ashes, because I desperately wanted to forget all the immaturity and the unnecessary kilig one person can make you feel in such a young age.

Now I’m way way way past that stage of heartaches and tears. I’ve moved on as the years passed, and I’m proud to myself because I didn’t need any replacement or another guy to help me get over him. 

I’m not ashamed in the fact that he was my first love, even if others tell me that he was never worth it or he wasn’t handsome enough. You can never please everybody lol plus I was the one who fell for him so…

Even up to now he’s clueless to what I felt for him before. It’s better this way, because there’s lesser explainations and complications. I got hurt, but I think it’ll hurt more if he knew, because I was a hundred percent sure he will never reciprocate.

I wrote the passage above four years ago, because four years ago I still haven’t moved on. I wasn’t hurting, but the pain was still there, just well hidden. Right now there’s nothing but memoriea to remind me that I once loved that dumb guy.

If you want to know his name, let’s just call him Alex. 

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