Image Source: Words on Images
This August will be sixteen years that my first true love broke me beyond what I thought was repairable. I was heartbroken, at the same time I had broken him. We were both broken beyond repair. All these years later…I find myself missing him. I miss the memories we shared, the memories only WE have been able to create the memories that can never be forgotten. I miss the way he surprised me for our first Valentine’s Day with a massive balloon bouquet, so large that they would not fit in the school bus. I miss the passion of our love and the spontaneity of our teenage lust. I miss the walking hand in hand down the neighborhood streets. I miss the moment we found out we were pregnant. I miss the moment he saw our child move inside of me. I miss the way he would call me Valeria. I miss the way he stood by my side and held my hand while I was in agony during the birth of our daughter. I miss the moment he took me as his wife and promised me a forever.
I miss the boy he was…not the man he has become.
This year in November it will be ten years that my second marriage was mutually agreed to be dissolved. I miss the rose bouquet he had delivered for that very first Mother’s Day while we were still dating. I miss the memory of having someone lay on the sofa next to me while watching our son play on the carpet in front of us. I miss the way we would instantly say Chinese when discussing dinner options on the days I did not feel like slaving over the stove.
I miss many things; I do not miss the MAN he was then nor now.