Dear First Love,

This is the love letter I'll never send to you.

I realize that I've changed. It's been three days since we've broken up - for real - and I realize that the world is different now that I've been with you. My laugh is softer and more genuine now, like yours. I'm not as stressed about the future, in fact, I live in the present. The glass is half full rather than half empty more oft than not, and I'm more easy-going now.

I've become a better person with you, and for that, I am ever grateful.

You've changed too. You're just a bit more organized and driven, and you walk with a greater sense of purpose, it seems. We've rubbed off on each other in the best of ways, and learned from one another unconsciously as well. Life is funny, that way. Love is mysterious, that way.

I remember falling in love with the guy who saved a lost puppy on the side of the road when we drove back from prom. I remember looking at you in awe when the waves washed up your phone and speaker on the beach, but you chose to lift me above the water rather than your things. You're nonmaterialistic, that way.

This is the love letter I'll never send to you because you're at college now, exploring the world, exploring yourself. This is the beginning of the most formative era of your life. The most definitive era that will explore your individuality and help you find your own niche. This is the beginning of what many call the best four years of your life.

And I - I don't want to infringe on that.

We're going to the opposite sides of the coast - you're moving back to the state I left, I'm going further south from the only state you've ever called home. Things are changing, but my love for you never will.

Perhaps this cheesy (it is). But I didn't realize that love could hurt so much. I didn't realize that love could truly inspire this much. I didn't realize that when you love, it resonates within your bones, that heartbreak shatters your very being and is let out in the form of tears. I didn't realize that love truly did exist. I come from a world in which love is a mutual agreement of coexistence, forced and coerced, a result of artful manipulation and silent strangulation.

You proved me wrong. Your actions spoke louder than any words my mother can ever utter. To love is to truly live in full color. To fall in love is to be wholly and involuntarily intoxicated by your presence. To be in love is to see the world with the glass half full, and forget about the emptiness.

And that's why we won't talk for this first month that you embark on the greatest journey of youth, and I, mine – at least. You, need to find your footing in your new world, and I, mine. Love happens when you least expect it, and I'm glad and ever thankful that we experienced such genuine passion, even for just a few months. Talking to me will make you (and I) homesick and distract the both of us.

Because if you truly love someone, you'll let them go. If it's truly meant to be, our paths will cross again. But for now, I'm thankful you walked into homeroom - and my life- my first day at Summit. You've left footprints etched in my heart and warmed my soul. You are my first love.

Thank you, for that. It's silly to think that love exists in giddy ways and silly gestures - but I miss all of that. I miss curling up in bed and watching stupid tv shows like That 70's Show or Aziz Ansari and laughing at humor I usually mask or ignore for the sake of my self-image in public. I miss the hikes and holding your hand, trying not to fall and not get distracted by your confident maneuvers. I miss watching the stars at night in your lap and my pink blanket, all warm. I miss feeling the sand between my toes on our beach escapades and the way your fingers intertwined in mine as if our hands were created to mold within each other. I miss taking your golden lab on walks that looked at you like you were her entire world – I related to her too – and our talks beneath the stars and within your arms. I miss the fact that you'd spin me around just like you did at prom, in public, just to be silly and laugh together. I miss the way your lips would automatically curl into a smile when you saw me.

I. Miss. You.

Thank you - for everything. I will always love you.

Let's go rock our own worlds, and my fingers are crossed that our paths will cross too. 

Love,

Bee.