Dear First Love,
I love you. I have loved you. I always will love you.
I remember when we met; when we really met. After school in third grade, on a warm and sunny day. The sky was clear. I was standing outside, near the Garfield Elementary sign. The one that was crudely painted a long time before we got there. I was just learning how to use crutches; my ankle sweating through a poorly wrapped ace bandage. I was watching my younger brother and his new friend, playing and laughing; having a great time in their own little world.
“Our brothers are weird, huh?” You said behind me. I turned to see you, with your wire glasses on a round and chubby face atop a body you wouldn’t grow into for several years. We’ve been best friends since then. From when we called ourselves “minion buddies” to now “uniform friends”
On a Friday in sixth grade, Emily broke up with you over text while you and I were walking together to the playground after school. She told you I had a crush on you. Immediately, you turned to me and asked me to be your girlfriend.
We didn’t know how relationships worked back then; we were young. But eight whole years later and I still feel the same.
We’re basically the same person. No one can make me laugh as hard as you do. You understand and support my love for all things nerdy, even taking part when I rant about Star Wars. When I’m with you everything feels right; as if that’s how it’s supposed to be all the time. No matter how long we’ve been apart, it feels like no time has passed when I jump in the front seat of that little green truck you love so much.
There are so many things I love about you. I love the way you would hold me. I love the way you laugh. I fucking miss your laugh. I love the way you still talk to me every day even though you’re the government’s property in Japan, a whole 14 hours ahead of me. I love the way you look at me, and how comfortable you make me feel.
I don’t know if I just crave the innocence of the relationship we had at first, or the adrenaline of sneaking off to the lake with you when we were older and weren’t even dating anymore. I don’t know if I miss the connection we felt in the front seats of my car, or the way your hands fit perfectly with mine. But I do know one thing: You are my one and only love. I’ve never felt love like I have for you with anyone else.
You were there through the worst times in my life. You saw me cutting myself; you noticed when I starved myself. You’ve talked me off ledges and empathized with me.
You were there through the best times in my life. You were my biggest fan when I started MMA. You were so proud of me when I got accepted to my dream program at my dream college. Some of my best memories are with you. Stargazing behind the trailer mansion, “off-roading” at the city lake in your manual jeep. Blowing shit up in your backyard.
My family still loves you. Our parents are still convinced we’re meant to be. My brothers even thought we’d be married by now. You and I think it’s funny they won’t let us go but secretly it breaks my heart.
I still have the love letters you wrote to me as well as the turtle jewelry you bought me in middle school. Creepy, I know, but we’ve established I’m a very nostalgic person. Hey, I made the box in like eighth grade; I’m going to keep it.
We may be on opposite sides of the planet (6,201 miles to be exact) with completely different life plans, but I do know that one day we’ll meet again. And like you said, we’ll probably end up being those rom-coms where high school sweethearts bump into each other at a coffee shop in their home town and the spark is still there. If we don’t, that’s okay. I’ve moved on; accepted the fact that we most likely won’t end up together. I’ll be happy for you either way. You’re my best friend. You’re the love of my life.
Sometimes I wonder if I never should have broken up with you freshman year. I don’t regret it; I wouldn’t be the person I am today without the experiences I had without you. I wouldn’t have been able to explore and discover who I am.
I thank you for continuously showing me what unconditional love is and what it feels like. I hope I find someone that makes me feel the way you do, and I hope you find the same.
Yours truly,
Minion/Ace Ventura Buddy
P.S. I know this letter sounds very much like a serial killer, but I promise it’s not like that. I’m not some crazy girl who’s still obsessed with you; I’m not going to lose my marbles and skin a cat if you end up marrying that girl, Savannah. I’ll be happy for you. Happy you found someone who will give you the same butterflies and heartache I have for you. Yea, I’ll be crying really hard at your wedding but I’ll tell you they’re happy tears so I won’t ruin your big day.