It all started out so innocent; we had little crushes on each other, the kind that leaves you with butterflies in the pit of your stomach. With no jobs, no responsibilities, and no modes of transportation other than our bikes, we were young and carefree. We spent hours on the phone together, giggling about silly inside jokes and telling each other our secrets. My face lit up whenever I heard your name, and you could make me smile on my darkest days. Everything felt so right.

You were my first love. I wanted to spend every minute with you; I had never felt this way before. You became part of my family, and I apart of yours. We supported each others passions and shared a similar group of friends. You told me things that you swore you had told no one else, and I did the same. We had "our songs," those about young love and happiness, ones that always reminded us of each other. We had so quickly become such huge parts of each others lives.

I don't know exactly what happened that led to our relationship going south. Perhaps it was the simple fact that we were growing up, finding ourselves and morphing into different people than we had been. Petty arguments and frequent pissing contests left us both angry and unsure on how to proceed, and soon songs about anger and heartache replaced those of love and happiness. But the splits never lasted long; we would always end up "trying again" with the same results. The first, second, third attempts didn't work out...we were pretty predicable, weren't we? Each breakup distanced us even more; weeks between splits turned into months, and eventually years. But a simple, random "hello" text would undoubtedly lead to us kissing and making up, relighting the flame that hadn't quite burned out yet. These escapades would never last, and the pain you would leave me in was becoming more and more unbearable.

I think me leaving for college was our ultimate demise; not only were there 300 miles between us, I was lucky enough to meet some wonderful guys that showed me how relationships were supposed to be. When I returned home for the summer, I stupidly fell for you again. Unfortunately, history has a tendency of repeating itself, and my naive heart was left in more pain than I ever thought possible. How could someone that once proclaimed such love for me hurt me so terribly? I thought back to the kindhearted guys I had met while at school; they showered me with such respect and appreciation, something that I was not used to from you. At first I had been confused; why were they being so nice? But then I realized something: they were giving me what I deserve.

I deserve someone who genuinely cares about how my day is going, not someone who plays mind games and makes me feel small. I deserve someone who reminds me daily how much they care about me, someone who wants to spend their time with me rather than penciling me in like an unwanted appointment. I deserve someone who makes me smile from ear to ear, someone whose feelings I don't have to question on an hourly basis. I deserve more than what you gave me.

I will always value our relationship. I cannot change or deny the fact the you gave me my first taste of love, and I will forever treasure our happy memories. Just as I promised years ago, I will always be there for you if you need a friend, and I will likely always get butterflies in my stomach when I hear your name. However, I no longer want to "try again." I am no longer holding out for our relationship to work, for the puzzle pieces to finally fit together. I still love you, but I am no longer in love with you.

I deserve more, and you don't deserve me.