I’ve known you for two years. I’ve loved you for most of those two years. And I hated you for the rest.
I loved you.
I LOVE you.
But I am ready to move on. I know that the teenage part of me will always love you. Our story should have ended a long time ago. It should have ended when I was with him, and you were with her. It should have ended the second you drove away. Instead, it’s ending Saturday. I feel like this is the end for us, but I don’t know if you feel it too. I don’t want to wait to be happy. I’ve been waiting, for two years to be happy. You’ve always been there, and I’ve always been here. We’ve never been together.
Part of me, is scared for Saturday. Because I feel like we’re just going to get wrapped up in each others webs again.
I’ve stopped myself from dating a lot of guys. I’ve stopped myself from getting close to anyone, because I have always had you. You have always been there.
You’re the first boy to love me, kiss me, hold me, call me beautiful… You are my first everything. You’re also my first good-bye.