Today marks three months from the last time I tasted your lips, the last time I had your skin on mine, the last time I really smiled, and the last time I actually felt emotion. It was a fling that I knew I shouldn't of gotten myself back into but did because the thrill of being with you was so much better than the pain of not.

Three years ago I never thought you’d be the one taking so many of my firsts, being the one I’d strongly call my first love. You forever have a part of me I can’t get back and I don’t know how to honestly feel about that. I walked into talking to you (again) very skeptical, I wasn’t about to get my heart broken again because I knew exactly what you were capable of. I remember when it all started, I didn't want anything to do with you. I knew exactly what would happen the second I let you in and I was prepared to make you hurt the way I had.

I flashback daily to just being in your bed, in such an intimate setting, with your lips on mine, your one hand lost within my hair and the other on my cheek, while I'm finally letting myself open up to you again. It was a moment I had prayed for every night for months and months. Do I regret it? Sure as hell no. If anything, I wanted it to be you. Always. But I do wish, it could've been me you were thinking about entirely and wanted it with too.

I remember Facetiming basically every night because you missed my face and because you “needed to see my smile” I fell for words and you always knew exactly what to say. We’d spend all night laughing, talking, loving one another, and being so serious to the point I had really thought you were a different person. You showed me a text from the best friend of a recent ex and it never actually clicked with me until now, at this very moment.

It was never me.

I wasn’t the girl who was making you happy and helping you believe that love could still be something so great after heartache. It wasn’t me who you wanted to be with. It wasn’t me who you imagined to be with for the rest of your life as you would say. I was a distraction. I was someone you could play around with because you knew I needed you and you took advantage of that. She was always there. In photographs in your bedroom, in your mind (yes, I saw your face that night worried like I’d never seen before when all the crazy was happening in Paris) You love her. You want her, you need her, and I’ll never be her.

So I sit here, months after you let me go and I don’t know what to say to you. I mean sure, we’ve talked here and there but I don’t even know what I feel. We talked before you left for camp and you told me, you and her were “working things out” I told you I support you, entirely. That I was happy for you. I truly am, but I want it to be me. I’ve always wanted it to be me. I want someone to want me like that, to constantly think of me like that, to fight for me like that. I miss you and I don’t know if there will ever be a part of me that stops. But what I do know is, you've completely changed me. I’m now you, I’m doing to others what you've done to me and I can't stop.

But just when I feel like I have enough to move on; I hear your name, I see you, and I’m back to where I was before. I can't move on, I can't let go. I loved you with a stubbornness. I loved you even when I shouldn’t have, I loved you when my friends were telling me to let go, I loved you when you were hurting over another girl who I've always believed never deserved you.

You left three months ago to this day. Everyone tells me that time heals all wounds but all it’s done so far is give me more time to think about how much I miss you.