Hello! Today, I'm gonna share to you a tragic love story of mine. It was my first love. And my only, up to this day.
He and I were both classmates in middle school. He was a transfer student. He was silent back then, and I wouldn't deny that he immediately caught my eye. It was not because he was handsome, but because he kept on staring at me.
He added me on Facebook that night, and that was the start of our conversation.
We always call each other, we always talk to each other, and we even have an endearment, even if we're just friends.
Despite all of that, I was shy around him personally. I didn't really get comfortable on being too close to someone on the opposite gender, so we continued being 'bestfriends' only in messenger.
During our graduation ball in high school, he confessed to me. And it was magical. The dance floor then was full of dancers, but I only ended up seeing him. So we got together.
We were happy. We were legal on both sides, we always date, we always assure each other, and I can really see that he was deeply in love with me just like I am to him.
However, it was in our fourth year when I started to see changes in him. He was always mad at me. Small things makes him pissed off. There was a time when I decided to join him in his game, but he got super mad at me because he said that 'I only bring him down'. And it was frequent. Everytime he gets mad, he would always say mean things to me, like he was not the gentle boyfriend like he was before.
But then, because of love, I endured it. I mean, he didn't cheat, he is faithful, and he thinks about our future, so why would I make my emotions be the one to bring us down?
However, on our sixth year, I couldn't take it anymore. Because I could keep up in his online game, he got mad at me. He threw harsh words at me. And the thing is, every time that he does that, he doesn't give an apology. He would raise his pride. He would let me cry on the corner and make me apologize afterwards because I got hurt.
I guess, his pride was more import than I am.
I couldn't take it anymore, so I left.
It was hard. It was painful.
But I was able to make it through.
It's been two years, and I'm not yet healed. But I was thankful for him, I was able to appreciate my self more.
I was able to know the things and treatment I deserve, and made me love my own self first before anyone else.
Looking back, I think, if I stayed at his side, I wouldn't be happy like this. I wouldn't be able to have confidence in my self like this.
Each pain has its lessons, God wouldn't give us a challenge that we can't do. We just have to do it. We need to have the courage to do it.
We need to let go of the things that hurts us, in order completely heal.