Day 119: The Ex

Write a poem to an ex.

You were the first.
First doesn't always mean special or earth-shattering or sentimental or whatever.
Sometimes first just means...it happened first.
I thought I was in love with you at one point but
I realized fairly quickly that I was just clinging onto affection.

You were weird.
So was I.
We had nothing in common except for a brief mutual attraction
and the same group of friends
and a love of binge drinking, college-style.

You were quiet
when you ended it. 
Then, you were cruel.
I didn't help the situation, I only
amplified it.
I couldn't let go of what I thought was love and I
couldn't make you understand.

You're barely a memory.
Sometimes I forget we were a thing at one point.
Once I'm done writing this, you'll fade back into the recesses
of my college memories
where you belong.