I’m Sorry. For Everything.

I was alone on a train when I got the text. Looking back, it wasn’t anything monumental, but at seventeen it felt like the worst thing that could happen.

We can’t do this anymore.

I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the screen. I’d known this was bound to happen eventually, but that knowledge didn’t prepare for the actual moment.

When we met, I was fifteen and keeping so many secrets from my friends and family, things I thought I would never be able to tell them. He was completely separate from my real life, and it felt so good to talk freely for once. He never judged me, not even for the things I was most ashamed of. He told me his life was better with me in it.

What do you mean?

I send the message, though I know exactly what he means. I just don’t know what else to say. I feel desperate, hopeless, and I need to know what I did to lose him. I didn’t understand how he could change his mind so quickly. He’d told me he loved me just one day earlier, and now we were just supposed to be over? How did that make sense?

What we’re doing is wrong. It has to stop.

He was older than me, but I’d always been told I was so mature for my age. I guess I didn’t really think it mattered. I loved him, he loved me, and that was enough. At fifteen I didn’t know much about love. No one really does. Most people go through their first love with someone else and it’s messy because neither of you knows what you’re doing, but it’s also beautiful because it’s young love. It’s a love that you will carry with you forever because it’s the first, and something about firsts just seem to matter.

I had my first love alone. Everything I was experiencing was new, but it wasn’t like that for him. Does that mean it meant less for him? I don’t know. Maybe.

But I love you. I can’t lose you.

I was desperate to change his mind. By this point in my life, I couldn't imagine anyone wanting to date me. I'd been burned by an ex-boyfriend, and it'd left me scarred. I thought the only boys who would ever chase me were sick twisted ones who needed to have power over somebody. I thought sex was the only thing I was good for. But he wasn't like my ex. He was sweet and caring and he asked me out before having ever seen my body. He was the kind of person I desperately wanted to love me. And somehow, against all odds, he actually did.

Stop. I’ve been taking advantage of you and I need to stop. You’re making this harder than it has to be.

I became very familiar with age of consent laws that year. Our relationship would've been legal in 35 states, but not ours. Still, I had to reason that, if more than half the country thought it was okay, could it really be that bad? I imagine he told himself something like that too. I don't know if I ever would've called things off if he didn't do it first. I'd like to believe I would've come to my senses, but I probably wouldn't have. I was happy with him and that was enough. I didn't want to see any problems, so I didn't.

You’re not taking advantage of me. I want this.

You don’t know what you want.

I felt like such a child. How could I be so naïve? I was a young, dumb hopeless romantic and I'd let myself fall in love with a man who said he loved me too. But I don't think he ever loved me like I loved him. He couldn't have. He had to have known better. I pictured a future with him, but he'd never been able to do that with me. I could look past every red flag because I didn't really understand how the world worked at all. He knew better. He knew that we were in two different parts of our lives. He knew that we had no real future.

I promise, I never meant to hurt you.

Then don’t!

I’m sorry. For everything.

I cried so hard that the conductor let me ride for free. It was pathetic. I did my best to calm down before I got home. I hadn't told any adult about him because I knew they'd all disapprove. So I didn't have anyone to tell me it was going to be alright. My friends were devastated for me, but they didn't know any more about heartbreak than I did. Some of them had never even gone through a breakup yet.

I was broken for a long time. I spent months wondering what I did wrong and hoping I would get an out of the blue text from him saying that he changed his mind and he still wanted to be together. Even now, four years later, I still think about him. I wonder how he's doing, where he's living now, if he's dating someone. I wonder if he even remembers me. But most of all, I wonder if he's happy. Because even now, I still care about him.

It's not fair that he had such an impact on me when I meant so little to him. He was a monumental part of my life, but to him, I’m nothing but a past love that he probably got over quickly and never thought about again. For me it was different. He broke my heart and at seventeen a broken heart isn’t an easy thing to get over.

I don't know if there's a lesson here. Maybe I'm a cautionary tale. Some people have said that what happened between us wasn’t a big deal. Some people have told me I was stupid for ever getting involved with him. Some people have called me a victim or a survivor. I don’t who’s right. We were two people who probably should've never met, let alone fall in love, but we did. There are so many reasons to call it a mistake, but the truth is I don't regret a thing. As much as it hurt, there were beautiful parts too, and I'll always be grateful for that.