I’m angry. It has taken me months to accept that I’ve lost my first love, and bitterness is all that remains. What happened to us? Clearly, it’s your fault. But maybe you aren’t the only person to blame.
Exactly one year ago, we were in bliss. We explored each other, and jumped into a pool of oblivion. We played underwater, daring each other to plummet deeper and deeper. I practically reached the bottom. But it was you who surfaced first. And much too fast. I’m surprised that your lungs didn’t burst with the pressure of rising at much too great a speed. Now that you regained conscious, what to do with me? I still was submerged underwater. You hoisted yourself out, leaving only your legs in our lovely pool, attempting to let me down easy. Except you treaded over me. Then, without warning, you kicked me. You kicked me out of lovely oblivion, all the while thinking it was best for me. I emerged, humiliated that the water had kept me down so long. I was the last out of the pool, while everyone else sat, laughing. There was no sympathy.
Now that I was back on land, I didn’t dare lounge by the poolside for a friendly chat with you regarding our swim. I found another pool of oblivion and dove in, where I will stay, doing underwater spins and possibly treading water. From time to time, you throw rocks into this new pool of mine. Perhaps, not to hurt me, but to just remind me of your dreadful existence. It's comforting, in a sick way. Nevertheless, I continue to submerge myself in the waters. But this time, I will not stray to far from the surface, never going too deep. I drowned once, and there is no way that will ever happen again.
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