Sometimes I forget that I was your first—in many ways. Maybe that’s why we were doomed to fail, we were naive thinking that we could last forever. Maybe things would have worked out if I met you a few years later. Maybe we’d at least still be friends, instead of whatever the hell it is we have now. I’m sorry I screwed that up too.

Some days I wish I didn’t miss you. In the beginning, I wish I’d never met you. I knew you’d be imprinted in my mind for eternity, and I couldn’t handle having to one day experience the pain of losing you. I’d tell you this if you wanted me to. I’d go back to you at the snap of your fingers, like an obedient mutt. I’d do anything if you asked.

But that won’t happen. Even with these emails that we send each other once every half a year, asking each other what’s new, you would never have me back. Why would you? Why would you still want me? Why did you start sending me emails? Why can’t I just ignore you? Maybe I’d move on faster, maybe I’d forget about you.

I don’t even love you anymore. I just love the way you make me feel. I just love the memories and I’m holding onto every shred of interest you can give.

Do you know that you’re playing with me? Are you laughing at me with your friends behind the screen? As I pathetically vomit my guts at your feet? Are you aware? Do you really care or are you just having fun?

I hope this is the last email, and I hope you respond. I’d eat out of your hand if you offered. I’d fucking apologise to you if you laughed at me for being so pathetic. So desperate.

I can’t even make new relationships because of you. Every time I talk to someone new I hear a voice telling me that they’ll never be you, I’ll never find someone like you. I know it’s so fucking wrong, there are close to eight billion people in the world, all unique yet alike. I just wish I remembered that when I need it most. There’s bound to be someone out there like you.

Even now I’m telling myself not to blame you for this. That you’re not the reason that I can’t talk to anyone else, that it’s just all my fault. That I control my reactions, and you’re not actually puppeteering how I react. But aren’t we all shaped by our experiences? And you’re one of mine. And I can’t help but think of you whenever I talk to anyone.

Will I ever experience someone like you again? I hope I do, and I hope that I love them not because they remind me of you. I want to see them as a new person, separate from you, better than you. I don’t want to feel like I’m under your control, even when you’re so far away. I’m tired of comparing everyone I meet to your ghost.