Firsts

I used to think that you were the one for me
Because you were the first.
The first to treat me how I wanted to be treated
And how I deserved to be treated.
You were the first I was with while I began to
Realize my worth.

I used to place so much value in Firsts.
I remember my first boyfriend,
My first kiss.
I thought because he was my first
We were meant to be.
I wasn’t really in love with him, though,
I was in love with the idea of the First.

Instead I was introduced to my first heartbreak.
My first betrayal.

After a long line of Firsts,
I ended up with you.
I was certain this was the be all and end all.
You were the first to treat me with that level of respect.
You were the first to truly listen and share my pain.

I clung onto you for so long because
I felt that you were my most important,
Significant First –

And for the first time, you didn’t want me back.
For the first time, I let you go.

The one for me
Is not a First in many ways,
But is a First where it matters most.

And in the end, maybe Firsts aren’t important after all.
Life isn’t that simple.

He is not my first kiss,
Nor my first love.

But I remember our firsts
As being sweeter than honey
And I remember feeling
Lighter than air
Happier than ever.

So goodbye to all my last Firsts.

Anniversary

A year ago today I began writing here.
I was about to embark on the biggest adventure of my life.
I was about to meet so many new people,
Have so many laughs and
Shed so many tears.
I was about to break my own heart
Say goodbye to someone who meant
So much to me
And then meet the love of my life.

What a wonderfully, terribly, awesome year.
Words cannot express the emotion,
Pain
Fear
Love
Excitement
Surprise
Joy
Pride
I feel.

So much can change in a year.
Happy anniversary.

Into the mirror

To the girl I ruthlessly harmed,
Both physically and mentally –
Please find it in your heart
To forgive me.

To the girl I told wasn’t good enough
Over and over,
Please find it in your heart
To let go of the pain.

I was hurting
So I hurt you,
Hoping for relief.

I should have been there for you.
I shouldn’t have let you go through it alone.
I am sorry.

Paper planes in the rain

A paper plane flying through a thunderstorm.
Each drop weighs ever heavy on the thin wings,
Curling, folding, disfiguring the once
Straight, strong edges.
Laying in a puddle of muddy water,
A crumpled shape is left.
When the sun returns, the airplane cannot be recovered –
It dries and hardens,
Never quite the same.