I loved him. I loved him so much. How could he look in my eyes and tell me he loved me? What was the point of the sweet nothings he whispered to me during class? What did he get out of playing me? I will never understand. Never. I just wish I hadn’t wasted my time on such a useless boy. “Cherish the nice times you had with him.” How am I supposed to cherish something when it was a lie? How can I look at the past knowing that it wasn’t real? The feelings of hatred and anger stir within me, yet all that comes out are tears and sobs. I don’t hate him, and I don’t think I can build the courage to hate him. I still love him and support him no matter what, it’s just I wish he knew what I went through. To my first love, Angel, please, for the sake of my sanity and my heart, don’t call me “K-baby” ever again. Sincerely, me.