The first heartbreak is always the worst. At least for me it was. Granted, I hope I never have to find out what breaking up with my current boyfriend (of 2.75 years) would feel like. However, I have a feeling that even though I know it would hurt, nothing can ever really compare to the first time you discover that love is not a fairytale, not a happily ever after that happens simply because you want it to.

Along with discovering that you can't simply dream up a perfect relationship, our first heartbreaks teach us a lot about ourselves and what it truly means to love someone. One of the best things I learned was to let go and let God. They say if you love something, let it go. If it doesn't come back to you, it was never yours to start with. To me this was the hardest thing to do, but looking back now, it was the right thing to do.

So, to the guy who taught me how to move on and let go, this one is for you.

To my first heartbreak,

There's so many things I wish I could tell you to your face, but it's been so many years now that I know you wouldn't be the same person I remember. I know I've changed so much that you would think I'm a different person.

When you knew me, I was a pushover. You used that to your advantage. You knew I couldn't tell you 'no'. I can't believe I was so weak. I guess I should thank you though, for making me fight you. You showed me how to be a fighter, because you never wanted me any other way. You weren't happy unless you were picking a fight with me. To this day you remain the only person I have ever hit with the intent to physically harm them. That kind of emotion is so dangerous, and with introspection, I understand now why we would never have made it together.

That being said, it doesn't mean that I don't miss you occasionally. I won't lie and say I think about you all the time because I don't. But sometimes I remember things like how you stole that awful middle school picture of me once and threatened to plaster it all over school, knowing I would panic. Or that time I was upset and you punched the crap out of my leg, leaving a welt. You asked me "Did that hurt?" I looked at you like you were crazy, thinking I must look like an idiot. You looked me straight in the eye and told me, "If you felt it, it means you're still alive." I knew that you were absolutely right, but I still don't understand why you had to hit me THAT hard to get the message across.

Sometimes certain songs or artists remind me of you too. Anytime a Taylor Swift song prior to the Red album comes up on my shuffle, I can't help but think about all the times I turned to her music, or listened to it hoping that we'd find a way to make it work out like it always does in her songs.

I want you to know that I used to resent the fact that you had all of my firsts; my first date, my first slow dance, my first (and last) cigarette, my first kiss. I hated that I let myself get so close to you when it seemed like none of those things mattered to you at all. I still regret that I can't share those memories with my boyfriend (except for the cigarette because EWW, I never want to relive that!). But when I look back on them, I can't help but smile and laugh at the both of us; me for being a scaredy cat, and you for pretending to be braver than you really were. You were nothing, if not bold.

Sometimes right before I fall asleep, you cross my mind, and I wonder how you're doing. I know everything's changed, but to me you'll always be seventeen, the boy who was never meant to be mine. I pray that everything in your life turned out the way that you wanted it to, and that sometimes you think of me and smile.

Thank you for being the villain in my story.. and occasionally playing the hero. You were, and I assume always will be, an interesting character! You just were never supposed to be a part of my happy ending, and that's okay. I wish you all the best in your own story, and I hope you find your own happy ever after. You deserve it!

Sincerely,

Ashleigh