Letter to my First Love

There are some things that I have to express and they’re confusing. The girl I used to love (and still might just a little), how do I even begin to describe her? I met her when I was 11 or maybe even 12, an age where I was so bitter and angry that when she approached, heart on her sleeve, hands reaching out with friendship all I could do was recoil and spit venom at her. With most people, they would have seen the violence in my eyes and given me up as a lost cause but somehow you must have seen something else because you never stopped approaching me with nothing but compassion in your eyes. Sometimes I wish you would have stayed away, maybe I wouldn’t have hurt you then.

At a speed I could not have anticipated you became my best friend, not that I would have ever admitted it to myself, and I would go to you with girl problems and I never noticed that even then I was hurting you.

And then we fell in love, and that was the beginning of the end for me, everything revolved around you, I swear that it was like gravity shifted and I was caught in your orbit. I don’t know if you ever felt like I loved you less than you did me, but it’s not true.

I loved you with everything in me, in spite of everything in me. I swear it was like I was drowning, the way I loved you felt like I was always on the cusp of imploding. It was violent and my heart tore at my chest to offer itself unto you.

When we kissed my skin felt like bursting into flames and lightning charred the inside of my veins and I was lost, lost, lost in you.

I loved you so, which is why I couldn’t keep going, I burnt out, I couldn’t keep up. I made you unattainable when I already had you. But I was losing myself and I couldn’t afford to.

But the worst part, is that it wasn’t always passion and burning.

The moments I miss more are the ones where you would become unbearably human. Memories of sitting on your feet because you thought your toes would fall off. Memories of shampoo in my eyes that you would tenderly wipe away. Of gel and hairbrushes and your capable hands taming these wild curls. Of snow days spent watching movies. of handholding that would light up my soul. Of drawings that you would make of the two of us. (I wonder if you make them for him) Of gentle singing when you were focused. Of earth-shattering worship that would bring down the Kingdom. Of tight sock buns and even tighter hugs. Of front lawn conversations in the dark. Of slow dancing, of learning how to dance because I wanted you to have a partner in me. We fit, you made me feel needed in a way I craved, I was ready to give up everything for you.

Suffice to say, I miss you. Today more than others. And I’ll probably never stop loving you in some capacity, you were my first love, but I hope you aren’t my last.

I miss You W.A

I was thinking of you the other day.. Especially on the day of your birth 17th July ,a day I will never forget even tho I think that you think that I did lol .Some of my passwords are still your birth date I just never bothered to change it after all this time. 1707

I am sure you had a very happy and blessed birthday with those that you love and who loves you. You have 1 of the kindest souls I have come across in my life. A Strong woman that can overcome anything life throws at her. I really miss you sometimes, not for what but just the talks we use to have and the laughs or stupid arguments.

You are unforgettable! ❤ 1 Of The Greatest Love’s I have ever known. You will always hold a special place in my heart.

I hope you keeping safe with all that’s going on with the coronavirus and your family is doing good and well..

I will and have always Loved You. ❤



It’s been four years now since you suddenly passed, and today feels just the same as that night when I got the call from the county coroner’s office. There is a pressure in my core that perpetually swells, filling me with anxiety and emptiness.

Things could have been better growing up. They always could have, and I harbored an unwarranted resentment towards you. But I was a kid and I didn’t fully understand everything. Even as a young adult, things took their time making sense. Once I was married and gifted you your first grandchild, things changed and the threads of healing were finally being sewn.

Then you fucking left. Heart attack they say, and you were gone before the paramedics even arrived. It may be cliche, but there was so much more that I needed from you, Dad. Namely, how to handle this crippling depression I inherited from you. Because leaving like that, yeah, it fucked me up more than normal. Despite being surrounded by my own family under my charge, I have never felt so alone. This is the fourth year in a row my wife forgot about today, and the fourth year I have to pretend like I’m okay because it’s not okay to not be okay.

I’m spiraling and can’t stop it. I love you and I miss you so damn much. I needed more time and it was stolen from me. I’ve tried releasing this anger and resentment, but I just can’t. So I bury it and forget it for a while until it decides to rise to the surface. I don’t even know who or what it is directed at. Only that it is eating ferociously at my sanity. I am overwhelmed with the feeling that I need to be where you are at all costs, wherever you may be. And some day, I’ll likely make the journey. Not just because I miss you, but because wherever you are is a hell of a lot better than this nightmarish cesspool we call Earth.