It Really Isn't Better To Have Loved And Lost Than Never To Have Loved At All

We were three. Well, to be precise, I was three and six months, while he was three and three months. We were on his swingset, and we had just learned how to make the swings go by themselves, you know, without our mothers pushing us. My little brother was a year and five months old, and his little sister wasn't even born yet. My brother lay in a stroller, sleeping in the warm sun. I looked over at you, my best friend. I couldn't imagine my life without you.

We were six. His little sister was now one year old, and his house wasn't big enough any more. I remember helping him pack all of his GIJoes, plastic dinosaurs, and little army men. I didn't fully understand what was happening. He was only moving across town, but it still put a huge riff between us. That was the year my mother got breast cancer (she made a full recovery within two years), and like I said, he had a one year old sister. So since we were no longer neighbors, our parents rarely visited any more, but we all but forgot each other. I constantly wondered about him. He was, after all, and allways would be my best friend, or so I thought.

We were ten, and we'd been going to the same daycare now for about six months, since my mother'd gotten a job. It was the start of fifth grade for me, and the start of fourth for him, as he'd been held back in first grade because he wasn't the best speller. I didn't care. We were little kids back then. Everything was perfect. Both of us hated the teachers at that daycare. They were mean, fat, ugly, and they hated me and him. We did everything together, our little siblings never far behind. We always fantesized about getting out of that place. We dreamed about hopping the fence and running. We never talked about where, we just knew it'd be together. That was the year we made up our game, "Ultimate Assasin", where we pretended to shoot at each other with our finger guns. For some reason, we thought that this was fun. And to think of it, I miss it. I miss that innocense, that chilldlike behavior. I really, really miss it.

We were eleven. It was near the end of my fifth grade year. I remember that day destinctly. He wouldn't talk to anybody on the bus, and he started to cry once we got to the daycare. He skipped snack time. Once we were done eating, everyone went over to see what was wrong. When he wouldn't say anything, they all left, but me. I sat beside him the whole time. I didn't say anything, I was just there. After a little while, he stopped crying, and told me that his girlfriend had broken up with him. I should have been thrilled. I'd "liked" (remember, fifth grade, people) him for at least a few months. But... I wasn't thrilled. I felt terrible, like it was somehow my fault. Within a few weeks, we were boyfriend and girlfriend.

We were twelve. We'd been dating for almost two years, and we'd grown apart significantly. We still said we were boyfriend and girlfriend, but we rarely spoke. I was in seventh grade, and there was this boy who sat next to me in science. He was sweet, and we had the same favorite books at the time. I called my "boyfriend", and ended our relationship. He wasn't phased, and this shocked me. If he would've cried, I wouldn't've cared, but this was different. I felt alone somehow, even though I knew that I wasn't. The feeling passed after a few hours, and I had a new boyfriend. I rarely thought about my ex-boyfriend, but when I did, the only the thoughts that passed through my mind were questions. After a few months, my new boyfriend started to become different. He became controlling, and... Creepy... I was relieved when I learned he was moving to Virginia. It gave me a logical reason to end the relationship, and I did, gladly.

We were thirteen, and it was summer. I loved him again. It was August, and just under a month until school started again. We went to the lake almost every day together, you and I, our friends, our siblings' friends, other people in our small, seemingly microscopic, town, everybody. We were about to go down the slide, and I told you that I still loved you. You smiled at me, and said that you felt the same. You went down the slide, and I followed. Later that month, about two weeks later, the summer was coming to a close, and we had our first kiss. Boy, I could write a whole story on just that. I'll just state the important details. It was in the forest by the lake, it was raining, and we were both in swimsuits. What else can I say? It was practically a scene from a movie.

We were still thirteen when school started. Things were going amazingly, when I (on an act of extreme stupidity) broke up with him. Don't ask me why, I really couldn't remember if I tried. He was crushed, and I didn't even care. I was a terrible person. I AM a terrible person. After a few weeks, I realized what I'd done, and begged him to take me back. I was so happy when he said yes. We were so happy after that, or so I thought. He started to become distant. The more I pushed, the more he pulled away, and I couldn't figure out why. He finally broke up with me, for another girl. To this day, I still don't even know who she is. There's a very probable chance that I've seen her, and not even known who it was. I mean, we go to the same school. We walk the same halls. We have the same lunchtime. But all that's beside the point. It drove me crazy to know that he loved somebody else, and a new girl, no less. Fresh from Arizona, which is basically one of the very few things that I knew about her. A few of the other things I knew about her was that she was mean, and gorgeous, though I'd have to be the judge of that myself. I'd found out these things from friends who did know who she was.

That happened about a month and a half ago. Let's talk about now. I'm newly fourteen (about fouteen and a month), and my life is still miserable. He now has a girlfriend, and here's the funny thing. She isn't even the girl he dumped me for. Of course, I'm not necissarily a saint either. Since our break up, I've had two boyfriends, neither of which I've even remotely liked. I was using them, and I didn't even know it. I guess you could say that I was trying to feel something new, anything but the pain. Every time I see his new girlfriend at her locker with her bratty little friends while on my way to algebra, I can barely breath. It brings everything back, his old house right down the street from mine, the daycare, the lake... Everything... Especially how much I love him. I miss his wavy, tanish caramel hair, his brown eyes, his smile, his red jacket, the way he almost hops through the halls, like he's always happy. Like he's always happy, without me. Like he probably always will be. And can I tell you the thing that hurts even more? His new girlfriend looks and acts exactly like me. We might as well be twins.  And the thing is, now, not only have I lost the love of my life, but my best friend.  I lost the best friend I could ever have, because of my stupidity, my idiocracy, my complete lack of realization as to what was happening around me.  He won't even look me in the eye any more.
Epikk Epikk
13-15, F
2 Responses Jan 5, 2013

I forgot to mention that my friend's mom owns a publishing company. That's the important part haha!

Thanks, I'm actually working on a story right now. Like an actually story, haha. It's pretty interesting so far... It sure is different. I'm actually hoping to get it published. I've always wanted to be an author, and now that my friend's mom read the first chapter of my story and said that it was amazing, I think some of my dreams are finally coming true.