The one thing I confided in after he broke my heart was writing. I wrote. A lot. I wrote and wrote till I felt like I had written enough to suck out every feeling of anger, bitterness, sadness and confusion that came with the slightest thought of him. But it was never enough. I felt like I could never write enough to forget him.
Then one day it occurred to me that if I want to move on, I should stop using him as my inspiration and be my own poetry. So I started writing about other things like, the way sunsets make me feel, the love I feel around my family, I even started writing fanfics ( and people seem to really like it too!).

It has been very long since I last wrote of him. I have moved on, of course. I find my old notes about him very irrelevant, as relevant as it had felt back then;
Yes, he may have been my first love but no, he wasn’t my universe, he wasn’t the love of my life, he wasn’t my ‘future hubby’, he was no hurricane, he was no drug, he was no devil no angel, he was just someone who couldn’t see a future with me. And for the first time, I’m okay with that :)