All The Ways You Are Better Than My First Love

When I met my first boyfriend, I was a hopeless romantic, I believed I could change the world, and I was perfectly unscarred. He was my first love, and he broke me every way he could.

Fast forward ten years, and then I met you. The first time we met, I knew there was something about you. When you met me, I was afraid of the world, I was bruised, and I was cynical about romance. A part of me had stopped feeling.

Once a heart breaks, it’s hard to put the pieces back together. The attempt is made but seldom succeeds.  Once you have fallen, you don’t want to fall again. I had to protect myself.

I hoped for a beautiful story, but I expected nothing.

When I wanted to give up, he said I was weak and if I couldn’t do it now, I would never be able to. But you said I was going through a phase and, like most phases, this would pass. You said everything would be okay in the end, and that you would always stand by me.

When I was scared, he said I needed to be strong, that I needed to suck it up because fear would always hold me back. But you said you would hold my hand until I was ready to stand on my own.

When I talked about my family, he said how strange they were to treat me the way they did, and that it explained why I was the way I was. But you never said anything bad about my blood, because you knew it would only hurt me more. All you said you was that I did not need to be defined by my family.

When I got ready to go out, he said Can you go put some more makeup on and dress up a bit more? But you look at me every day like I am the most beautiful thing in the world.

When I cried, he told me to stop, and that I should not feel bad for myself. But you didn’t say anything. You just let me cry while you held me, because honestly, that was all I really needed.

When I had a bit too much to drink, he said I had a drinking problem and I needed to keep it together. But you just made sure I made it home safe, and that I had all the water I needed.

When I wanted some french fries, he asked me if I was sure I wanted to do that to my body. But to you, it didn’t matter what time of the day or night it was, you shared them with me.

When I was all done up, he said I made him look good and that he liked being seen with me. But you, although  you appreciated the effort, you liked me just the same – done up or not.

When I introduced my friends, he said he didn’t understand what was so great about them. But you made the effort to get to know them, because you knew how important they are to my life.

When I waited for him, he would sometimes forget and I would be left waiting, silently crying in the dark. But you don’t make me wait, ever.

You make me want to believe that people have a heart, and that the magic I grew up believing in does exist. This feels real and you feel right.

My life is better with you in it, and I hope you stay.