Smiling with one  knee on the ground, his elbows resting on his legs with his hands outstretched, showing the whole world gathered in this small diner the diamond engagement ring glistering in the bright light before mouthing those four words. "Will You Marry Me Mabel" he confessed. Absolute shock ran straight from the top of my head to the tip of my toes making me rooted to the spot with my mouth hanging open in the most unladylike manner. I am completely blank and thrown off guard by his question that he must have taken my silence as part of  the euphoria that comes with such an important question, so he pushed some more. "Mabel, Please Say Yes" Mark's voice pierced through the fog covering my mind snapping me out of that state of silence. I looked down into the depths of those soft black eyes that had captivated my heart from the first moment I met him, pulling me in unconsciously and holding me prisoner even till this day two years later and I saw undying love, devotion, trust and happiness, all playing in a loop as he  stared at me waiting for an answer and the whole room faded away leaving just me and him. My heart bleed for the evil I was about to commit to a man who did nothing wrong but love me unconditionally for who I was. A man who took great care of me in my worst days and was my rock and pillar when I needed it. He was my Knight in shining armor, a shoulder when I needed comfort and a soldier when I needed rescue. Being my safe haven will be the understatement of the year, he was a man with a heart of gold and I was about to burn down his world to ashes. The first tear dropped… Springing to his feet, He immediately enveloped me in his arms and cocooned me with his warmth while the reassuring strokes of his fingers moving up and down my back made me calm. "Shush Honey, I didn't mean to overwhelm you with all of this" he crooned softly in my ears which sounded like a lullaby. The time felt right and I want to spend every waking moment of my life with you wrapped in my arms.  I am so sorry for springing this on you, I just wanted today to be special and memorable as it would signal the start of our new life together. You are the light of my life Mabel and I want to spend the rest of my days with you. The dam I had been restraining all night overflowed and spilled out… FULL FOLDER HERE.... https://www.dropbox.com/s/lqm3ckkk8rlpdya/TWISTS%20AND%20THORNS.docx?dl=0

I never thought I would be the kind of person who stares at her bedroom ceiling at one in the morning, listening to songs that remind her of someone who broke her heart. The kind of person who replays the worst moments in her life as if they were scenes in her favourite movie. The kind of person who looks back and counts all the warning signs, wondering how she didn't see them. I guess I've just never been good at noticing foreshadowing. Last June, when I was sixteen, I realized my best friend had a crush on me. “Do you ever just want to kiss one of your friends but worry that it would ruin your friendship?” she asked. I don't remember what we had been talking about. But I told her yes, without even thinking. I repeated that moment in my head a million times over the next week, and somehow, I worked up the courage to ask her about it. It was a hot day, and we were sitting in her cluttered beige kitchen after school. She sat in silence while I talked. I don't remember what I said, but I remember her quietly replying, “I guess it's pretty obvious, huh?” I remember looking back on that moment with a rosy filter, remembering fondly how romantic the comment had been. Now, looking back, I see it as avoidant. Vague. I bristle at the idea that she wasn't even willing to say the words out loud. How hard is it to say, “I like you”? Did my efforts mean nothing to her? By the end of the conversation, I had promised her that no matter what happened between us, I wouldn't let anything ruin our friendship. We both jumped when her parents suddenly came home. Looking back, that should've been the first warning. She didn't want her parents to find out about us. She made me promise not to tell anyone, she said that none of our friends could know. When we flirted over the summer, it was in secret. When we kissed in October, I couldn't tell anyone. I don't know how my heart was so full, so caught up in a romance that felt more like a rose-tinted indie film than real life. I followed all of her rules. I convinced myself that it was different when she broke them. Halloween fell on a Thursday that year. That was the day that she told me that we needed to take a break, that we couldn't be together anymore. She built her story out of vague comments. Her parents had said something about us, she was scared they were getting suspicious, so scared they would find out. She turned on the TV and we sat in silence until her mom came home. The room was dark, and the light of the TV illuminated their faces. I was sweating in my costume, nauseous and trying to stomach down dinner, trying not to cry. Trying to understand how she could pretend that everything was fine, chatting and laughing with her mom as if I wasn't even there. I barely remember going home. I know I cried for the rest of the night. I know I didn't go to school the next day. I know she never texted me. I know I was never in love with her. But as it turns out, someone can still break your heart, even if if you were never in love. Turns out, when your friendship of seven years starts pulling apart at the seams, it hurts. And it hurts when the realization hits you too late. When all those little warnings, all those moments of foreshadowing, fall into place. I followed all of her rules, even when she broke them. I stayed up until three in the morning with her, trying to convince her that she was a good person and trying to fix her problems. I smiled sympathetically when she made comments that were thinly veiled pleas for attention. I brushed off dozens of apologies that were really some reason to be sorry for her. I don't how I didn't notice it before. I spent so much time defending her, telling myself it was different than it actually was. But when was the last time she made me feel better? Made something hurt less? I thought that we could still be friends. I really meant it, when I promised we would always be friends. But now I've realized that she's the kind of person who makes you choose between her and your other friends. The kind of person who's only interested if the conversation's about her. The kind of person who will sit on her phone instead of talking to you. The kind of person will ignore your texts. The kind of person who makes self-deprecating comments because she wants to be told that she's better than that. The kind of person who's judgemental and harsh in her honesty. The kind of person who's avoidant and apathetic. After seven years of friendship, I've realized that she's the kind of person I don't want to be friends with. But I'll smile and laugh when my friends say we'd make a cute couple. And I'll stare at my bedroom ceiling at night, listening to music that makes me even angrier. I'll keep replaying this awful movie. I'll pretend she didn't break my heart. I'll pretend I still want to be friends. I'll pretend everything's fine.

I've had my heart broken many times in my life. But, what does that mean - having your heart ‘broken'? I wish I didn't know. Usually, when one refers to a broken heart, it's a painful reminder of severed relationships. As a 17-year-old, I suppose it's natural that I've felt that at least once. But what about the feeling you get when you can't say what you want, when your opinion is silenced and those with different opinions speak freely and without possible repercussions? As a conservative living in New York City, heartbreak in that way has followed me for as long as I can remember. I did a good job hiding it for a while, too. Because when you're someone like me, hiding your true values and morals becomes second nature. However, it comes to a point where your frustration, your sadness, your silence, becomes too much to handle. You see your liberal friends, expressing their opinions with full knowledge they'll have a legion of supporters standing behind them. You see this, and wonder why can't that be me? Why must I stay quiet, and let everyone else wreak havoc in the midst of my silence? Why must I stay quiet, while they voice their opinions? Just recently, I wrote an article about racism from an Asian perspective. The death of George Floyd made me upset. However, the reason for my anger was different from everyone else's. I was frustrated that the racism felt by Asians was disregarded simply because we don't speak on it as African Americans do. I wanted others to know, to understand, to listen to what I had to say. I wanted people to understand that racism is a conversation that involved everyone, not just African Americans. And so, I wrote the article, knowing full well I was taking a risk. I submitted it to my editors, quite proud of what I had written. What ensued was two full weeks of constant editing of an article I knew wasn't offensive but was claimed to be. My editors were afraid that my article would cause unnecessary backlash in the midst of the Black Lives Matter movement gaining unprecedented momentum. What I wrote ran the risk of offending those who believed I was disregarding their sadness, when that's what they were doing to me. For context, I compared the racism felt by Blacks and Asians. If I had not, it wouldn't be an op-ed. I suppose that was where the problem lay. What frustrates me is the hypocrisy that exists everywhere I look. I decided to retract the article, after obsessing over it for more than two weeks. It seemed that, no matter what, my editors always found something wrong with it. I realized it then when I told my editor of my decision. She didn't even negotiate with me. If they had wanted my article published, they would have encouraged me to rethink my decision. I'm still so proud of my article: it's my best op-ed yet. But for the safety of my future reputation, the, unfortunately, best decision was to leave it unpublished. However, it angered me to see that one of my friends had their article published in the same week it was written. The topic, you ask? How unreasonable it is to counterargue the grief of Black students. Another one of my friends is writing about how the All Lives Matter and Not all Cops movements are problematic. It makes me wonder what would happen if I expressed my own opinion on that, knowing it would counter both? I suppose it would just be another back and forth with my editors about how offensive my article could be. It's against the grain of our own country, to do something like this. But did that ever stop anyone? I'm tired, I'm upset, and above all, I'm frustrated. The news has gotten me into conversations with my friends I wish I didn't have to have. All of them are liberals and as much as it's become second nature for me to remain calm when expressing my opinions, it hurts to know that it's all of them against me. That's how it's always been. As I go into the conversation, I realize how isolating it is to have no one your age to support you in this way. It makes me wonder, is there something wrong with me? It makes me want to assume that crowd mentality, to just go along with the media and everyone else. It would be so simple, but I'd know it would be wrong for me to do that. I've reached the point where I no longer care. So what if people hate me for my opinions? I believe it says more about them than it does about me. Actions speak louder than words. If you choose to despise me for a single article I write, then you don't truly know me, nor will you ever. It's a different type of heartbreak, not being able to express yourself as others do. And just like any other, heartbreak is something expected to be gotten over, overcome, and forgotten. But when it follows you with every decision you make, how can you just “get over it”? This isn't a breakup, this is my life. There's a reason why I think this way, and one day, I hope I'll be able to let the world know without fearing retribution.

This year has brought with it a string of firsts for me. I got my very own first car, thank you mum and dad, and I'm in my first pandemic( well at least the first one I'm old enough to understand). I also experienced my first heartbreak. I know what you're thinking; “She's only 20, what does she know about love?” But please hear me out. I had it all planned out. My college sweetheart,Tanaka, and I were going to graduate, get married and move back to Zimbabwe to start our family. Did I mention we were going to have two beautiful girls, Mayamiko and Tariro? In retrospect, I may have gotten ahead of myself but hey a girl can dream! We dated for about a year and some months. I think it's safe to say he was my first love. I won't bore you with the details of how we met and magically fell in love, we were at the same college and eventually became friends turned lovers. Like most relationships, we had our ups and downs but we were happy for the most part . Our university is small so basically everyone knows everyone's business. Most knew of our relationship but many did not approve. Of course this was discouraging but it brought us closer together. I mean it was us against the world right? Now to introduce you to every girlfriend's nightmare, his female best friend. I may not speak for all girlfriends out there but I definitely speak for many. He had a female best friend who I will call Jessica. Jessica and Tanaka were in the same class. They had been best friends even before I knew Tanaka. Like any good friend she was always there when he needed her support, a little too much actually if you ask me. She was friendly and polite to me and I to her but if I'm to be honest I never really liked her. I couldn't help but feel she was a little too close for comfort, but she was just being the doting best friend right? Now back to my love story for lack of a better name really. About 10 months into the relationship I went to Russia for a three month student exchange programme. It was one of the most exciting and challenging experiences of my life yet! Between me trying to settle into a new environment and the different time zones communication between Tanaka and I dwindled. Daily phone calls turned into daily text messages that turned into weekly text messages at most. We grew apart in the three months I was away. When I came back we tried to pick up from where we had left off. Of course with us now together in the same place our relationship improved but things did not go back to the way they were before. Shortly after I came back from Russia schools were closed and we all went home because of the coronavirus. I have to admit I was a little relieved to be getting some time off school. I thought it would be our chance to patch things up without the pressures of school. Boy was I wrong! For one we started online school which is busier and a lot less fun than it sounds. We did try to text and call as much as possible but the conversations were often brief and perfunctory. His birthday was coming up in the next three weeks and this time I was going to go all out. I figured maybe a grand gesture would help reassure him that I still cared about him and I wanted us to work things out. Being in quarantine meant there wasn't much I could do so I decided to draw him a large portrait of his favourite picture of us. After all my drawing skills are quite good, if I do say so myself. The portrait was coming along great until one afternoon while I was working on it I received a call from Tanaka. “Hey there!” I answered excitedly. “ Hi,I have something I'd like to tell you.”Tanaka said. “ Jessica and I are now dating. I didn't want you to find out from someone else.” I immediately hung up and switched off my phone. I just sat and stared at the unfinished portrait for what felt like an eternity. So many thoughts raced through my mind. When did they start dating? Were they secretly in love the whole time? I felt so betrayed. It was in this moment I realised my heart was broken. I wish I could say I am completely over how things turned out but I'd be lying. Of course some days are better than others but I'll just have to take it one day at a time. More often than not I find myself daydreaming about what used to be. I still have many unanswered questions that sometimes keep me up late at night. I must say I have a new found understanding of Alicia Keys' ‘Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart'. I always thought it was a beautiful song but now it goes deeper, it echoes the sentiments of my heart. I never finished the portrait, I don't think I ever will. I have decided to look at Tanaka and I's story the way I look at the portrait. Though unfinished it still is beautiful.

Heartbreaks are just awful in general but my first heartbreak was where I lost everyone I loved. This heartbreak would teach me that even my own family will be the cause of my first and worst heartbreak. They would be the ones that I needed to be protected from. I was a bit naive and never dealt with anyone lying to me. At 16 years old, I lost my family which consists of my 4 girl cousins , my best friend Jenna , and my boyfriend Jose. My cousin Denise, who started doing drugs at the time, thought that she could blame it all on me. I heard she said things like I bossed her around and made her do all these horrible things like stealing cars, stealing money and I made her sneak out of the house all the time. I couldn't believe what was going on because first off I had no idea what the drug was at that point and I didn't even know she was doing drugs. But it would explain the pure evil I saw in her eyes. She couldn't stop lying and honestly I think after a while she believed her own lies.She kept the lies going with not even caring what this was doing to our family and most of all to me. My other 3 cousins never came and questioned me about it and just chose to forget me. With so many lies and gossip pointing the blame in my direction, they just assumed and believed her. They altogether stopped any contact with me for years. I'm talking about my group of girl cousins who I grew up with. They were there for every birthday, every holiday, every summer, and every weekend to hang out and have sleepovers. SInce we were babies, we have always been inseparable. Their parents stopped any contact with my parents. I was not expecting my cousin to ever do this to me. Next in line, I lost my best friend Jenna who went to school with me. My cousin met her through me and got her doing drugs as well. Once again my cousin and Jenna blamed everything on me so they could still hang out and get high together. In front of our parents, they told everyone that it was me with the drug problem. I broke down begging Jenna to come out with the truth. I was crying so hard that I couldn't even talk. I just remember looking at both these girls who I loved more than anything and saw they didn't even care. They showed no emotion whatsoever as I poured my heart out to them. I was even apologizing for their own mistakes. I was trying to crack one of them but they let me leave Jenna's house that night so heartbroken. I was just devastated. Luckily my parents at least believed me, but I still felt so defeated. Last person I lost was my boyfriend which was my first boyfriend that I ever loved and lost my virginity to. We had been going out for about 8 or 9 months and he broke up with me at the same time this whole drama thing is going on with my cousin and Jenna. I find out months later that he was sleeping with my cousin and doing drugs with her while we were still together. My cousin destroyed my life overnight and I knew I was never gonna be the same. After that, I didn't leave my bedroom and I stayed in bed. I felt pathetic and just worthless. It changed my whole personality and changed my whole life. I turned to drugs months later and I really didn't care what was being said after that. I was already known for being a drug addict. I was not responsible enough to make a good decision on how to deal with the pain. I only blame myself for that though. The pain wasn't my fault. That was out of my control. But the struggle was what I am to blame for. I let so many people affect me. I let them all hold the power to my happiness which wasn't healthy. I think it's safe to say I loved them too much. I learned that forgiving those who never apologized or even acknowledged what they did to me is one of the hardest things I ever had to do. It's been 17 years since this happened and I should be over it right? With this being my family that did this to me , I still see them on holidays and sometimes for birthdays. We act as if nothing had ever happened. I just know if we were to talk about it, the conversation will never gonna go the way I want it to go. I have to keep it bottled in and act like I don't think about it everyday. My cousin is sober now and actually did 5 or 6 years in prison. She has still, to this day, never admitted anything to me about anything. I feel like she totally took advantage of who I was. She knew I wasn't gonna snitch on her and she knew I wouldn't bring anything up and confront her about it. She played her game with all her lies and she knew I loved her so much that I wouldn't blow her cover. Maybe it's my fault I didn't object but my words meant nothing to anyone. You want to know the worst thing about pain? It's only yours. People won't understand your pain. Even the ones that have caused it may not even realize it. Other people will tell you to get over it and tell you to just move on. My cousin may be able to forget what she did to me but I will never be able to forget. More than anything, I wish I could.

At first, I didn't know what to write for this. I always thought of my life as not that meaningful or noteworthy, but I have a story I want to tell. I had a friend, someone I cherished above many people. At that point, we had been friends for many years, nearly five or six I think. Lets call her Vivian, since I would rather not use her real name. Vivian's parents had told me to stay away from her. I could not visit anymore because of my sexuality. They have a belief that every person is gay or straight. You like one or the other, not both. We found a loophole and still messaged each other when we could. However, I am not a patient person and I really wanted to visit her, to see Vivian and enjoy all her sarcasm and humor. So, I came up with the brilliant idea to message her parents without consulting her first. A stupid and impulsive decision. I gathered my courage and sent a message to her mother from my mother's phone since they were friends on the social media platform I used. I got a reply quickly since she had not yet left for work. I was hopeful that maybe I could change her mind, since I know I really couldn't change the father's mind. At first, the conversation was rather light, not what I was expecting. But it got tense quickly, when I sent her a message she misinterpreted as me being rude. I had not meant to be rude or tell her how to punish Vivian, I just wanted her to listen to me and then decide if I was worthy to mingle with their daughter. By the end of the conversation, both myself and Vivian's mother were upset at the other. And Vivian was beyond angry with me. She told me very blatantly that I should have been patient and waited. All I did was upset her mother before work. I felt bad, I knew Vivian had the right to be upset and scold me a little. My own mother, however, did not agree. She started to argue with Vivian, only making her more upset. At this point, I went to the bathroom to calm myself from the nerves I had knotted in my stomach and veins. Within those few measly seconds, I lost my friend. The only person I really depended on and talked to. My world crumbled. My mother had said some very mean and hurtful words to my friend, which made me lose her. I lost my temper. I screamed at my mother, yelled hurtful words that I knew would cause her pain, and walked away. At that point, I did not care about her feelings or my consequences, just as she did not care in those few seconds. I had lost my friend, my best friend. I lost my two lovely cats, and I lost my will to live. All in one summer. Over time, due to the deep emotions that ran through me, I later experienced an emotional burnout. I did not care about anything. I would cause myself pain to feel alive. I had no will to eat, to get out of bed, to do anything other than sleep. Just when I thought, for a few days, I was getting better, my depression and anxiety started pumping throughout my body. I could not stand to be in public or I would start to cause self-harm to relieve the stress in my body. I would scratch and bite my arms and twist my fingers nearly to the point of nearly breaking. I could never stay in class because that alone would cause me to panic. My depression caused me to loathe myself. I hated my very being. If it were not for my therapist and medicine. My friends and family. I don't know if I would be here. I have a different cat named Stella, who is pigeon-toed on her back feet. I also have a guinea pig named Brutus, from Julius Caesar. I am on a different medication. I am finally starting to feel better. I am starting to feel alive again. To everyone else like me, these feelings can be handled. It is not easy to deal with these feelings, it won't just go away, but over time, you will feel better. So just keep marching through the dark, you will find the light.

07202019 You were the first man that I loved. You were the only man who released the butterflies in my stomach and made them behave eccentrically. Since you became my Achilles' heels, I had been on cloud nine. Such emotions stopped me from thinking logically; I took every opportunity to make our paths meet. I had quite succeeded: you agreed to be my subject and took the tests I administered to you. I was very exhilarated by your presence, worried that you might hear my heart thumping loudly inside my chest. I was lost, yet I found myself drowning in my overflowing emotions. I believed that we had a future. Stupidity as others may call it, but I thought that your actions meant something – I thought that you liked me too. Yes, I was delusional. To believe in a world that is nonexistent, to see only the things that I yearn for: it was all injudicious. Whenever you failed to show up in a couple of our appointments, I had to make excuses for you. I had to because I want to make myself feel better: maybe you failed to show up because you had tons of things to do, or perhaps you weren't feeling well. I had denied the fact that you might not want to see me, that I might be interrupting your schedule. Whatever your reasons were – only you could answer. It's not like it still matters to me. Even so, I have no right to demand for your time. I never had. Back then, I never knew that I was holding onto something that wasn't even there. Repudiating the possibility that you might not have had the same feelings I had for you, I decided to confess what was I had been keeping under wraps. However, before I even managed to do such a thing, I discovered that you already had someone special. That person – a girl who had your heart – wasn't always around to keep an eye on you, yet I felt a more growing distance between us. I had accepted the fact that you had a girlfriend sooner than I expected, but that only lasted for just a couple of days. At first, I thought that it had been better knowing this in advance because at least I managed to avoid rejection. I thought I had drawn a clear line between us, which I can never cross. I believed that moving on will be easier since there was never an us. Given that we had never made a memory to forget, I thought that everything would vanish in just a snap of my finger. But then, the butterflies kept on reaching out to you. I became desperately in love with you. Knowing that you already belong to someone else only strengthen my desire for you to be mine. I had always been hoping that you and your girlfriend would break up. At that time, I desperately wanted to hold your hand, to clasp you tightly in my arms. I wanted you to lean against my chest and hear my heart screaming out your name. I wanted you so badly. No words might be able to describe how exactly I felt, but there's one thing I'm sure of: I loved you. Months had passed. I successfully made slow progress putting you out of my mind. Then one day, I was astounded of what I heard about you. Never have I thought that what was I hoping for would come true: you and your girlfriend had broken up. I thought that this might be a chance to have you. I assumed that the universe had finally heard what I had been longing. However, when my hopes are just getting high, I learned that the breakup was old news. It happened while I was still inside the void. At the same time, you never have had a very long time to find a new one. Your new girlfriend was your classmate. She was much closer to you, so she was with you almost all the time. I never had once seen you without her. Looking at you together was already enough to remind me that I would never be able to have you – ever. To make things worse, I could even see you doing the things that we supposedly are doing together. Whenever you hold hands, laugh, and tease each other, I always find my heart torn into pieces. I tried my best to avoid looking at you and avoid running into you. I thought that I succeeded because the pain had somehow receded. But seeing you was inevitable, and whenever that happens, all my emotions would suddenly pour down on me. Excitement, happiness, misery, bitterness – these feelings never changed. It always felt like the first time I saw you; felt like the first time I realized that you could never be mine. After a year, we both got occupied with tons of school requirements. We were both graduating students, after all. Then, before I could even blink, it was already graduation day. That means the chance of us running into each other is low. What seems to be strange is, it has been 42 days since I last saw you, yet you keep on appearing in my dreams. No matter how hard I try to make myself occupied, your ghost would find a way to ascend from the abyss to remind me of the things I never had. Maybe I shouldn't have suppressed the pain. Perhaps I should've let you leave on your own instead – even if it takes a lifetime. Waiting for the right moment, – jericrj

Have you ever felt unwanted? Used? Unbelievably worthless? Have you ever been used and abused until you feel pressured to change who you are? That's what happened to the fragile boy called Bradlee… He was so desperate to be loved he stayed by the side of a human being who pushed him around like his feelings didn't mean a thing. He blamed himself for the words she told him. He constantly felt an agonizing stirring in his stomach the longer he stayed. Even after she left he hated himself with a passion from deep inside his chest and thought he could never be happy, he could never smile truthfully, he didn't deserve it… He went through lovers; all of them leaving him behind like a waste of their time. He gave up. He cried to his best friend, telling him that was it. No more love. Love doesn't exist. Love is a fake sense of hope and trust that uses all of us. We tell ourselves we're fine with being lied to and try to brush it off. We call it love and say it's all okay even when they are insulting us every day and treating us like pavement. He made the decision, he was done trying. Love wasn't for him. People only loved the sins he shared with them not the heart that was too fragile to even be held. He wouldn't let himself get attached. No more of that. No more daydreams and blushing in his soft cheeks. No more. That's what he told himself. He reminded himself each day that getting attached would only bring heartbreak and he couldn't afford another one... Then that beautiful day of June stood out in the dark… He saw the face of a gorgeous soul. This man his eyes met with was someone that he knew was going to mean something to him. This man was something special and he knew he had to do something. He kept his stone wall intact as he spoke to the angel of a human he saw. He asked him many questions and got a glimpse of who he was. Every day after was spent with long phone calls, messages filling his screen, and photos shared between them. Both of them knew something was beginning… There was a genuine spark between them that was the size of a wildfire. The moment that the angel of a man stepped foot on his creaking wooden home, he felt the deepest sense of hope. This man may be the most important and wonderfully beautiful thing that will ever happen to him. The rules were broken. No more chains on his chest. This was real. He was free. He found love.

There's a time where you don't realize words people say to you blind you. You're blinded by how you think you feel; instead of reality. I remember the day I fell in love with him, he fixed my heart when it was broken, the later broke it in more pieces than before. He approached me at the park. A tall guy with dark brown skin, bushy dark eyebrows, with a flat top style. Small eyes, thick curly eyelashes. And dimple in his right cheek. “On some s*** you cute.” He had some hood slang to him that I liked, but I was focused on the first words he spoke, how they were rude, no “Hey, how are you?” or “How's your day.” “Thanks,” I say and go back to looking down at my phone. He asks for my number. “How old are you?” “16. How ‘bout you?” “I'm 13, “You don't want to talk to me anymore, huh?” “I got you luh mama. I'll text you later.” He walks away and I realize I just gave a complete stranger my number. At home, I get a text received from a number with an out of town area code. “Hey. This ol' dude from the park.” As much as I wanted to, I didn't respond as quickly, but about five minutes later. He asked what I was doing and I told him laundry. and he tells me his name. I asked to call him because I didn't feel like texting. When he called, I hesitated to answer but was so anxious to continue talking to him. We spent hours on the phone, just getting to know each other. Laughing, comparing ourselves. We talked like we knew each other for years rather than a day. I have been talking to this guy for six days, almost a week, and it seems like six years. I have found out so much about him. I felt as if he was a con-artist because of so amazing he was, and I told him I wasn't looking for a relationship. I am out at the mall with my friends thinking about this dude I've known for six days. The day is November 10, the day we make your friendship into a relationship, the day I say “I love you” back to him. Three months later, my ex texts me. The guilt I felt, the horrible memories of our relationship. But one text can change everything. He told me how he missed me, and how he wished things wouldn't have ended. He opens up on what caused our relationship to stop and I, remembering how in love I was with him, consider getting back with him, knowing I'm already in a relationship. I don't do it, I don't cheat, but I loved both guys equally at the time. One week later, I remember how much I am in love with Corey and how I missed him so much in that period of time we stopped talking. Everything was good for the next few months. The guy met my family, and everything was going right. Too good to be true, but it was. He made me smile every day, boosted my confidence, and made me laugh. I felt so lucky to have him in my life. I was so happy that he was mine and I was his. So grateful to him for being my best friend and lover. I told him everything. There were no arguments just jokes and comments. He was there for me when no one else ways and vice versa. Seven months into our relationship. Our conversations are dry and aren't as alive as they use to be. His tone when he would talk to me is as if I bother him with the words I speak. He finally texts me the words that killed me. “I can't do this anymore.” My heart drops, and eyes tear up. I respond with, “Wdym, this better be a prank. HAHA, funny u got me.” I knew deep down he was serious. It all made sense with all the ways he was different, and how he was avoiding me. I tell him “Answer me.” “The love just isn't there how it use to be. I just feel no connection. I'm sorry.” I think- Don't tell me this lie. How are you sorry when you said to me you wouldn't put me through what I already went through? You promised to love me always and forever and no matter what obstacle, we could get over it. After, everything seemed normal, like everything was going to be okay. We would make it up to a year, no doubt. I felt that our relationship was stronger than ever, with all the things that happened between us. But I was blind. Only five days until we make ten months together, two months before a year. This was my second and longest relationship. So happy with the time we had together, all the laughs and embarrassing pictures. September 5th, the day he really ends it. He avoided me, just short conversations through text messaging. But I didn't see where it was going, I figured he wanted some time to himself, but I was blinded. I was blinded that this happened before when he said he didn't love me, from when he told me the connection was longer there and he wanted to move on. But I forced him to stay with me and give a second chance. Only this time it killed me hit me directly in the heart. He just kept saying how he didn't feel like talking anymore, how things have to end. How he can't do it anymore. I tell him how he made me so happy like I was in the fairytale I always dreamed of being in. But it was the end. The day was September 6, 2018. The day I gave up on love.

Dear first love....  I don't even know where to begin. So, I will start with this. You hurt me. There is so much confusion and hate inside of my heart, that used to be filled with unconditional love and trust. The heart that would trust someone just because they asked me to. Growing up I was taught that if someone loved you, they would show you and tell you. I believed that, with all of my heart. But, when we were little kids, we believed that people waited until they were 21 to drink, and waited until marriage to have sex. Turns out those things aren't true. Just like I found out your words weren't either.     You have made me a better person. Although I sat in agony for days, drowning in my own tears and wallowing around, you've taught me a lot. You taught me that I shouldn't care what others think of me. You've broken down walls that I never let anyone even get close enough to climb and look over. I opened up to trying new things, and you created a more adventurous side of me, with my anxiety driven self. You taught me to love myself.. because one day, you wouldn't want to love me anymore.        You also taught me that only a man could handle my strength, independence, loyalty & commitment, and that a boy can't.       Dear first love, as I lie in bed at night and look at our pictures and read our old texts through a blurred lens, I wipe my eyes, and remind myself of a few things. You no longer have power over me. You no longer choose my emotions. I'm no longer allowing you or this heartbreak to have the power to make me cry, ache, and get angry. Because if you were a man, you would have stayed. You would have done anything and everything to keep me.               but you didn't. Perhaps, I wanted to fix you. When it wasn't my place to, and maybe that's why I wanted to keep you so badly. Maybe i thought I didn't do my job.  Dear first love, I've said all that I need to say. Except for this. Love her. Love this girl who comes into your life fearlessly. Don't play those games with her head and heart like I know you already are. She probably hates me, although, she should probably thank me instead. Remember to always consider her feelings. Never tell her that they are wrong, because that will break her. Trust me. Don't get angry when she asks if you still like her, because reassurance is nice. Remember that when you are in a relationship, she is the only girl that you should want. I pray that this girl gets the loyalty that I didn't always receive.  I hope that you can show her the grace and patience that I showed you. Because after all you have taught me, you've learned quite a few things from myself.  Maybe this is why we were together, right? Maybe I was the girl who was supposed to teach you how to love a human being more than anything you could imagine.  So, Dear first love, thank you. For all the good and the bad. You've made me stronger than I was. I hope that I did the same for you. But, don't forget me. I was a big part of your life once.                             Sincerely,                  “The one you still love”

Yes I admit, in some ways you are too old for me. The way you talk to children and activate a flashlight somewhere behind their wide eyes gives me shivers. The way you light something up in me makes me feel the same way, but sometimes I don't mind. Every now and then I catch you mention "but that was ahead of your time," and at first it doesn't bother me, but then I feel like I need to scrape my knees to catch up to you. But there's a way you bring me back to when I had just turned 13 - a new innocent spark under my small denim jacket, the calmness I felt listening to my favorite bands that were your favorite bands. You grabbed my arm and twirled me back to my favorite time in my life, riding around the block on my bicycle with my headphones playing the same music you were listening to in high school. I smell rain and I see tall trees that my eyes never saw the tops of, and I feel the smooth keys on my first keyboard I ever played when I unwrapped the shiny model on Christmas. I feel misunderstood again - in a good way. I feel smart, but I also feel like I'm ready to learn. Just when I thought I was trapped in this globe of uncertainty and confusion, you pulled me out and held me with your calloused hands and whispered lyrics to a song I've never heard before. I don't mind if you make me chase you - I feel the way I did when I swung on the swing set in primary school hoping to touch the sky with the curve of my toes. You take the bitter taste of dirt out of my mouth and drop a teaspoon of cough syrup on my tongue and I taste youth again. I love that you don't expect too much from me. I have looming due dates of papers over my head and voices singing that I'm a disappointment. With you, all I have is time. I have a full life ahead of me, that's what you said. I have nothing but time to waste with you while the world stops turning for that night. The little girl you dragged out from under me is frightened and won't let me enjoy living again. She's grown up before, and now that she's back again, she knows what you're going to do - she's seen it all before. Love and learning isn't all playgrounds and love bites and tire streaks in the driveway. It's scar tissue, obsession and smeared hearts on the face of the one who eats their heart out. You must never tell, she tells me. Do not let him know. I feel fire flaring up behind my neck when you whisper in my ear. I hear ghosts from the corners of my brain start to sing when you talk about the things you love. I feel a heavy weight on my heart when you hand me a shot glass. I feel it tugging when you become irritated when I get dressed. "Are you fucking leaving? Because if you want to leave, you can just go, I'll unlock the door for you," you hissed at me. I had to undo my dress and throw it on the floor for you to believe that I wasn't going anywhere. I heard police sirens and saw flashing blue and red lights, but they went away at the blink of an eye when you started to play love songs. I can ignore the signs all I want, but if they start to take away my sight, I will have to feel everything so intensely and blindly. I feel the wind brushing my long hair again while I sit outside by the lake at my grandmother's old house. I remember what it felt like to have my heart broken when I was little and not have anywhere to go but here. I close my eyes when we lay together in your bed and you roll on your side, and I come back to this place. I love it because even as lonely as I have ever been, nobody else has ever taken me here. Something about you forces me to experience everything over again and I feel immortal. I haven't spoken to you in months, I think it might even be a year. I fell in love with someone else. Younger than you, but still significantly older than me. Whenever she says "but that was ahead of your time," it reminds me of you and I wish I was nestled between your chest and your beard but I fell in love with someone else and you never bothered to text me again after that night that I made you walk home. I don't feel bad because you humiliated me in front of all your friends. I know you remember what happened. I drove by your house last night and I saw boxes piled up outside of your front door. You must have moved back to New Jersey finally, just like you told me you were going to do someday, using it as a reason why I deserved better. I see it now. I wanted to tip toe over and hide in the biggest box I could find and tie a long silky red bow around it, but I thought I might get tipped over on the way to the post office. I think about you a lot more than you'd think, you know. I see fragments of you in everyone I meet. You sneak your way into my thoughts very rarely, but still leaving me feeling refreshed. Feeling raw. Feeling free. Feeling immortal.

We've all experienced some sort of heartbreak. Some loss. Whether we felt it from the guilt of leaving our partners, or the pain we felt when our partners had left us. Truly caring for someone only to part with them later is more emotionally harmful than anything else on this earth. Mere days ago, I was informed by my dearest friend that my partner wanted to leave me. "You're single now," he told me. "He's upset with you, and he's tired of what you're doing." I felt my world come crumbling down from those few words. I would have understood if I had betrayed him in some way, such as cheating or lying about something, but all I had done was keep to myself in troubling times. I refused to rely on him emotionally in the case of him one day disappearing from my life, and thus did not burden him with my problems. Then I was told this. I can only faintly remember the last time I felt this way. "Okay," I simply replied with a deadpan expression. Yet deep down inside I was crying--screaming--and wondering why he'd leave for such a reason. Even before I began to write this I laid in bed and nearly bursted into tears at the mere thought of being without him. It hurts. After all we have been through together. It truly pains me inside. Now I pass by him in the halls, not daring to take a single glance in the fear that I may just break down once again, and ignore his very existence. On my way home I start feeling that emotion bubble inside of me, and it takes everything in my being not to explode right there in the middle of the street. If I must be honest, I feel very much at fault for this. If I just wasn't so stubborn and was more open. If I had just gave a more clear explanation to him on why I choose to spend time with only a select few people rather than him. If I had just told him upfront "I feel depressed, and I need some time away from us so I can collect myself again" or "This is just something that happens occasionally. I promise it'll go away soon. Just please be patient with me, I beg of you" or anything along those lines. Then maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have the need to cry myself to sleep late at night. I wouldn't have the need to nearly collapse into tears each time I see his face. I wouldn't have the need to fake my hatred towards him, and mask my pain with fury. I wouldn't have the need to forcefully collect my being and throw myself onto another person just to forget him. This whole situation could have been avoided if I just said something more explicit and obvious to him. Then at times I also blame him. He understood, knowing me for about two years or more, that I prefer to stay away from most and hang out with very few when I am in these little moods. Yet he whined and chose to leave me over this. In fact, it was he in the beginning who would leave me to my own devices. It was he who would abandon me when I needed him most. It was he who would tell others "They're fine. Just leave them alone for a little while. They'll get out of this funk eventually." So why is it now, out of all times, that he is so furious for me simply understanding that it's better for me to deal with this on my own? Why is it that now, when I am the one who decides who I am with when I have these feelings, he gets upset? Who have given him these unspoken rights to control who I do and don't hang around when I am in no mood to deal with people including him? These emotions of mine conflict, and it hurts both my heart and my head to think of this. I know not of the future, but I do hope that someday all of this will be mended. I shall either join with him to figure this all out, or cut him from my life in its entirety and move on. Only time can tell what my choice will be.

We've all experienced some sort of heartbreak. Some loss. Whether we felt it from the guilt of leaving our partners, or the pain we felt when our partners had left us. Truly caring for someone only to part with them later is more emotionally harmful than anything else on this earth. Mere days ago, I was informed by my dearest friend that my partner wanted to leave me. "You're single now," he told me. "He's upset with you, and he's tired of what you're doing." I felt my world come crumbling down from those few words. I would have understood if I had betrayed him in some way, such as cheating or lying about something, but all I had done was keep to myself in troubling times. I refused to rely on him emotionally in the case of him one day disappearing from my life, and thus did not burden him with my problems. Then I was told this. I can only faintly remember the last time I felt this way. "Okay," I simply replied with a deadpan expression. Yet deep down inside I was crying--screaming--and wondering why he'd leave for such a reason. Even before I began to write this I laid in bed and nearly bursted into tears at the mere thought of being without him. It hurts. After all we have been through together. It truly pains me inside. Now I pass by him in the halls, not daring to take a single glance in the fear that I may just break down once again, and ignore his very existence. On my way home I start feeling that emotion bubble inside of me, and it takes everything in my being not to explode right there in the middle of the street. If I must be honest, I feel very much at fault for this. If I just wasn't so stubborn and was more open. If I had just gave a more clear explanation to him on why I choose to spend time with only a select few people rather than him. If I had just told him upfront "I feel depressed, and I need some time away from us so I can collect myself again" or "This is just something that happens occasionally. I promise it'll go away soon. Just please be patient with me, I beg of you" or anything along those lines. Then maybe none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have the need to cry myself to sleep late at night. I wouldn't have the need to nearly collapse into tears each time I see his face. I wouldn't have the need to fake my hatred towards him, and mask my pain with fury. I wouldn't have the need to forcefully collect my being and throw myself onto another person just to forget him. This whole situation could have been avoided if I just said something more explicit and obvious to him. Then at times I also blame him. He understood, knowing me for about two years or more, that I prefer to stay away from most and hang out with very few when I am in these little moods. Yet he whined and chose to leave me over this. In fact, it was he in the beginning who would leave me to my own devices. It was he who would abandon me when I needed him most. It was he who would tell others "They're fine. Just leave them alone for a little while. They'll get out of this funk eventually." So why is it now, out of all times, that he is so furious for me simply understanding that it's better for me to deal with this on my own? Why is it that now, when I am the one who decides who I am with when I have these feelings, he gets upset? Who have given him these unspoken rights to control who I do and don't hang around when I am in no mood to deal with people including him? These emotions of mine conflict, and it hurts both my heart and my head to think of this. I know not of the future, but I do hope that someday all of this will be mended. I shall either join with him to figure this all out, or cut him from my life in its entirety and move on. Only time can tell what my choice will be.