My first love

My first love was an asshole.

But then again, I was an idiot.

I was 15 and lonely and hormonal and I let myself fall in love with a douchebag that never showed whether he cared for me or not. He compared me to other girls saying, "I could have gone out with her, you know?" like he had settled for me. He created this idea in my head that I was nobody's dream girl. I'd only be what somebody would settle for. And I hated that he got to be the one that ended it. He got to be the one who cheated on me and look back on our relationship like it was a mistake while it ruined me.

I haven't spoken to him in a year and I'm tempted to. I want him to know how much he fucked with my head, how much he hurt me and why. I'm SO sick of being insecure and paranoid when my boyfriend looks at another girl. I want to have the last word with him, tell him how much he hurt me and changed me.

It makes me want to cry. How stupid I was. How nonexistent my feelings must have seemed to him. Sometimes I think, "wow, he must have really hated me" to put me through all the things he did, say the things he did and end it the way he did. I did my damn best. I loved him so much and it never counted for anything.

I guess I'm feeling nostalgic today but, God...I'm so distraught. I want him to read this. But I also don't want to hear from him ever again.