One day, when I was having a normal, teenage girl break down, my friend told me something. “Your first love means nothing because your second love is the one who fixes your broken heart and teaches you how to love again; your first love just breaks your heart and leaves.” Nothing I’d ever heard before made me think as much as these words did. I started to weigh the pros and cons of being second.  For someone who basically lived a life of coming in second place, this was a big deal. This could virtually change my life and my internal hatred for always being second. The more I thought, the more I realized being someone’s second love is probably the only time number two is better than number one. When you’re someone’s second option you have to live with the fact that there’s someone who comes before you. When you get second place, your only thought is if you could’ve gotten first. Even when you’re someone’s second love that means there will be a third, fourth, and maybe a fifth after you. Each one grows with importance because they heal you of all the wounds the previous love has left you, but until you find your last love, they all break your heart just the same. I think I’d rather be last. If you’re someone’s last option, you’re their last hope; all their money is on you. If you get last place, no one’s attention will be on your failure, because they’ll be too focused on the success of the first. If you’re last place, there’s nowhere to go but up. If you’re someone’s last love that means you’ve healed all their past heartache, but managed not to cause anymore. I don’t want to be anyone’s first or second, because that means there will be others after me. If it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to be your last…