Wow, it’s been two years, and I’m still not moving on. Pathetic. I keep coming back to check on you—see how you’re doing, if you still think about me, if you have someone else.

You’re the first thing on my mind when I feel down. I used to laugh at posts saying nobody can forget their first love, but look at me now. Somehow, I feel stuck in those sweet memories we shared, addicted to your love and everything you did for me. It’s funny how differently we’ve coped with our breakup. You got hurt, cried, and moved on. I hurt you, dated others, but I’m still here, sending DMs to your abandoned account. I don’t even know why I feel the need to message you in English. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to be someone else, not admitting that I still miss you. Or maybe it’s just to appear cool.

I know I have someone else to care for, and I don’t want to hurt her by letting her know I’m not over you. And I painfully know you’re seeing other people now, maybe even forgetting me. But that’s good for you. It really is. It feels good to see you happy, active, surrounded by friends, and successful in everything you do.

But it hurts to realize I no longer have a place in your life and that I’m just an old, fading memory. I’m sorry for hurting you, but what can I do? I can’t change the past. I just hope one day I’ll be completely over you. You once said, “I think it may take three years to forget her.” If that’s true, I think for me it may take even longer. I’m not sure if it’s guilt that makes me feel this way. I don’t want to think about you anymore; it’s exhausting. I should just say goodbye.