Maybe love isn’t what I expected it to be. You were my first love. My only love. Even now it’s hard to erase your face from my mind.
At least you’re not in my dreams any more. That’s one good thing. And I don’t have the torment of seeing you every day. I think that’s a good thing. In fact, I know it’s a good thing – why am I letting my imagination run away with me again?
You meant everything to me – and at the same time, you meant nothing. I loved you but I hated you too. You confused me.
You had such a power over me. I think part of me liked the sudden control you could unleash. You could be so patronising, so terrifying. If I depended on you, if I feared you, then it would be easier. I think I liked being powerless, weak. It made me depend on you; made me need you.
Somewhere along the way, I mistook that for love. Adoration, even. You were all I could think about. I lived and breathed you. I woke up both looking forward to and dreading seeing you, and I went to sleep thinking about when I would see you next. Your face was even in my dreams. I was completely under your spell. Sometimes I didn’t mind at all – other times I tossed and turned in anger, wanting to break free.
I wondered why I can never stop thinking about you, and I think now I know the answer.
It’s because you never stopped having a hold over me. I stopped succumbing to it, but I never truly broke free from it. I loved you with such intensity that it was hard to just abandon my feelings, even though I abandoned you.
Even now I don’t know if I loved you or not. Sometimes we overcomplicate things, and believe that just because we thought we felt that way for someone means we must have done, when in reality, we didn’t. But then again, sometimes we don’t need to look into the ins and outs of love. Maybe what I felt for you was love.
I don’t know. Maybe I’ll never know. I hope I can find out – maybe that way I’ll be able to put my mind at rest and stop thinking about you. Then again, maybe it will just make me think of you all the more.