Monday, 17 November 2014

Shadows of the Past

Original Photo taken from Unsplash
 For the past few days I have been in a very serious emotional dilemma.

The protagonists:
My first boyfriend and yours truly
The setting:
My fucked up mind

I had my first boyfriend when I was 17 and to this day I would consider him as my only real boyfriend so far. We had met at a friend's party and I was instantly drawn to him: blonde, lumberjack shirt, a beard, great humour and crutches. Our relationship was short but sweet and after two months it was me who ended it.
I broke his heart. Not because he was "too nice", but because I was afraid.

While most girls that age crave a happy relationship, the responsibilities and my inner pressure scared me. On top of that I was afraid of having sex for the first time. I guess I was the only 17-year-old-girl who actually avoided going on a trip alone with her boyfriend simply because in my head a little voice screamed: "You're gonna get laid!"

So, I broke it up, even though I knew that he would understand my troubles. The thing is that I was not mature enough for a relationship in contrast to him.
The first time I saw him after our breakup he showed up with a girl, so I got drunk and experienced my first hangover. Damn, I was so stupid.

Until now I think it was right of me to end the relationship. I was not ready and now he has got a (supposedly) wonderful girl by his side who loves him dearly and makes him happy. Last year they got engaged, wanted to get married this year, but I  have no idea what became of that.

We are still "friends" on Facebook, but haven't actually messaged each other in over a year. And while I would love to contact him, ask him how life has been, I don't want to mess things up. His fiancé hates me of course and I don't want her to think that I am the weird ex-girlfriend who still tries to become a part of his life.

Apart from all that I have this weird feeling of longing anyway. I long to see him, to talk to him, because it has been quite a while. I don't want to think about all the "what if"s. What if I hadn't broken it up? What if we had made this trip to Berlin? These kinds of questions don't really matter to me, because the past can not be altered.

I've just been wondering about what would happen if we were to meet again now. What has changed about us? It is ridiculous how many times I have stared at my Facebook page hoping that because of some kind of cosmic miracle a message by him would appear.

Well, I don't think it's gonna happen. He'll marry his girl, move to SoCal and lead a wonderful life with her. I will never be a part in this picture, but sometimes the shadows of the past stick to you against all odds.

My brain warns me every day not to get too caught up in this affair. It tells me to be reasonable and go on with my life. It says that I have to stop thinking about him that way. After all he was able to do it to and he was the one who got hurt the most. There is no need for me to complain and whine around. It's not my right.

It's not my right.
But I can't help it either.

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