Gift to the view

My first love

       Without naming names, I'll paint a picture with my words – perhaps it will resonate, and you'll realize it's about you. Our story unfolded in the halls of our high school when we were both inexperienced freshmen. I was a wallflower then, not one to initiate conversation with strangers. But our paths crossed and everything shifted. I can still vividly recall the day we met, introduced by a friend we both shared, and how quickly we clicked, becoming inseparable companions. Our timetables aligned, ensuring we shared most classes, making our bond stronger day by day.

      I have these snapshots in my memory, like the way you used to dote on me, treating me with a chivalry that made me feel like royalty. In those moments, hope flickered within me, suggesting that perhaps your affections went beyond friendship. But then whispers reached my ears about you and another girl, and though she shone brightly, I couldn't help but feel a tug of longing for your attention. After your relationship with her ended, you sought solace in me, your tears and self-reproach met with my assurances that you were not to blame.

       Our shared moments grew more frequent, we gravitated back to each other's orbit. You were always so generous, lending me whatever I needed without a second thought. Your embraces became my refuge on the days when the world weighed heavy on my shoulders. You had a knack, an effortless charm that drew people to you – including me. Our constant texting and togetherness sparked rumors of a romance, which you laughingly dismissed as mere friendship, not knowing that each denial stung me a little more.

       Sophomore year marked a change in the tides. Despite the familiar rituals – the walks to class, the goodbye hugs – there was a certain hollowness in your gestures. It was as if you were performing out of obligation, your warmth replaced by a subtle irritation. Despite this, the physical closeness remained, but our conversations dwindled to a trickle. I sought comfort in new friendships, trying to mend the fracture your distancing had caused in my heart, yet nothing could truly fill the void.

       As the year progressed, our interactions were reduced to fleeting smiles in crowded hallways. I watched as you bestowed the same affectionate attention on another girl, one that you had once given to me. Your smiles, once my treasure, were now offered to me as awkward afterthoughts. On the rare occasion that we engaged in a meaningful conversation, it was about her – and while I was grateful for your words, they were a bittersweet reminder of what we no longer had.

     Hearing about your new relationship with her felt like a definitive closing of a chapter. The realization that I had lost you to someone else was a silent fracture in my heart. Now, two years have passed, and the two of you are a portrait of love. Sometimes, I can't help but wonder how different our story might have been if the girl by your side was me.

    Nonetheless, I hold onto the hope that she brings you the joy and happiness you deserve, even if it isn't with me by your side.