I’ll Never Forget You: First Loves Never Die

By Stella Violet

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I saw your last name plastered on a street sign the other day and wanted to send you a picture, until I remembered we haven’t spoken in years.

That day, I went back to the park by my childhood home and cried. Wishing that for some reason the universe would send you there too. 

It didn’t. 

I’ve always been much too prideful to call you again and what’s worse is that we live in the same city, and I can’t even tell you. 

Love is painful, it’s me sitting on the corner of your bed while you ask me if it’s okay to feel depressed when your life’s been handed to you on a silver platter. And it is. 

It’s leaving your house at 3 a.m. and trying to figure out if you said “I love you” as I left. Or, if I was imagining it in my head for the fifth time that week. 

And, it’s me getting older, realizing nobody will truly understand me that way that you do. 

I’ll sit here and wait, it’s not a good thing. I worry that our paths have crossed for the last time. But, if there’s still a chance that our story isn’t over, then that’s a good enough reason to keep waiting. 

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When I watched “Normal People” for the first time it was like falling in love with you all over again. The miscommunications we endured, the high school embarrassments and the way we were each other's favorite people. 

I replay that era in my mind before I go to sleep, hoping that you’ll meet me in my dreams, but you usually don’t. 

Except once. I woke up in your light blue bed sheets and watched as your sheer white curtains blew around in the warm summer air as the sun hit my face. 

Nothing much happened, it was beautiful. 

I still look for you on the highways and at red lights, it feels like a sick game because it seems this whole town drives the same car you do. 

Maybe you put a curse on me and I’m destined to never find anyone better than you. I mean, at least I’ve learned to fully love myself in this time spent alone.  

See, I can always find a sickening way to thank you for letting me go. 

Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier to move on if you were a complete asshole or were dead because then maybe I wouldn’t have a good enough reason to say no to every guy trying to replace you. 

But, to me, you were full of sweetness and loyalty, in a way I didn’t even know existed outside of men in movies. 

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The funniest part is that we never even dated, but I would never sit here and say that meeting your family and exchanging “I love you’s” was a casual affair. 

I know you wouldn’t either. 

I was naive and broken, thinking there’s no way you’d ever want to call me your girlfriend and I know you felt the same about yourself. 

When you experience a love this strong for the first time in your life, it’s hard to understand how to keep it. 

I moved away thinking I could move on, but who was I fooling when I drove down to spend Thanksgiving with you. 

Do you remember the last thing you said to me that day? 

I do. 

I think about it all the time and wonder if I would have just pushed my pride aside and admitted how deeply in love with you I truly was, would we be different? 

I wonder if I would have moved back sooner, would we still be together? I wonder a lo

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I read a lot of poetry and philosophy now, trying to dissect why I still feel this way after all of these years but not one person has an answer. 

If this is what love feels like I never want to experience it again, or at least that’s what I tell myself. 

Deep down, I know I’m capable and worthy of it, but it feels sinful if it’s not with you. 

I really did want it to be you and I think I’ll always want it to be you but time never stops and it’s tragic because if it could I would wait as long as it took for you to realize it still can be you.  

There will never be a time I’d forget about you, but for now I’ll try really hard to pretend like five years didn’t mean much to the next guy I meet.