I don’t know if you will ever open this, but I just have a few things to say.

I don’t miss you. I miss our conversations about the universe, about religion, about politics and why we are sad. I miss our talks in the darkness of your bedroom, my head resting over the steady thump-thump-thump of your heart and your hands playing with my hair and trailing along my skin. I miss how comfortable I was with you. I miss how you would check up on me throughout the day, asking if I was doing alright and listening if I said that I wasn’t.

I miss how safe I felt. I miss the silence we could share; I’m not a constant talker and it made me feel better that you weren’t either. I miss watching old movies with you and getting to stare up at you as you slept and just marvel at how lucky I was that you were mine.

I miss the laughter. I am not a happy person, I’ll admit it, but you always kept me laughing. You are not a happy person either, both of us fed up at the hand of life we were dealt, but together that life felt a little more manageable. Nobody else could understand my humor like you.

I miss the closeness that we had. Or felt like we had. I still have my secrets and I know you do as well, but I felt comfortable enough to share my darkest thoughts with you because I knew that darkness swirled inside of you as well. We fit like perfect puzzle pieces but I guess I was not worth it.

You aren’t worth it either. You aren’t worth the pain I’ve put myself through and you aren’t worth the tears I’ve shed. I have grown into a better woman and a better human being because of you and I learned that I need to cut out the unhealthy relationships in my life. I learned that I need to put myself first for once, a thought I haven’t had in years, and to do so meant letting you go.

I deserve better than what you were willing to offer me. I deserve someone who is willing to put the same amount or even more effort into me than you ever did.

I do not miss you, my first love, I miss what I thought we had and what I thought we were.