The things we love the most hurt us the most.

I loved you more than I loved myself, and I miss you more than you know.

Your smile, eyes, and mind were just a breath of fresh air. I adored you, you were like a God for me. But for you, I wasn’t the right one. I wasn’t a girl with who you could be forever.

Something about you was so damn addicting. And I fall for that. You had me, all of me. But I didn’t have a single piece of you.

You and I have never been simple. It’s never been able to slow down, it’s never had any order.

But when it all comes to an end, I’m the one that gets left standing all alone. I am the one that has to move on, even though my feet stuck to the ground.

I was always so sure in you, in us, and I believed that we are going to make it. But you get to walk away without a care in the world.

The truth is, it hurts because it was real. It hurts because there were real feelings involved.

Sometimes, I wish that I could have met you in a different life. Sometimes, I wish that there had been just a little more time to love you. Because I thought that it was going to be forever.

It was so real.

That kind of love, the kind that we shared, it doesn’t come around that often.

And I’m sorry that we didn’t make it.

Parts of me will always rest with you. You have certain things that I won’t ever to be able to give to anyone else.

You will forever be my first love. And no one can take that away. But you hurt me the most.