Date: November 2022

Life was starting to improve, and nearly at the end of the year when I went to church on Sunday. The lovely time I had and I even enjoyed myself...

Until I met him.

Lance. Same age as me, handsome and cute. I know I had a crush on many boys: player boy Oliver, and blah blah blah, but he was one of my hear-me-out moments.

I didn't 'like' him. I loved him. He was different from any of the boys I have met. He was... spiritual. I saw something with him - a future. Being the delulu girl I am, I daydreamed about him during the week, looking forward to seeing him the next Sunday. I couldn't wait to have our little glances again, looking at each other and locking eyes.

Words can't describe how in love I was with him. He was handsome, I wanted him. I loved him. This was no lust, nor infatuation. Gosh, I was in love with him. He was too good for this world. He felt too good for me yet so perfect for me. I will never forget one Sunday when we locked eyes twice. 

Take me, I'm yours," were the words screaming in my heart but also, "He is the man of my dreams," was what replayed in my head.

Too bad that my last Sunday in February of the following year would be the last time I ever saw him.

He was someone I would call my first love. Someone who spoke with his eyes. Someone who met the criteria of being husband material.

True, I was young. But maturing for me was realizing that handsomeness alone doesn't count, but it was the moral uprightness one had that made his personality shine. I wanted to be by his side. But life never happened exactly as I planned.

From here on, this signified the start of me asking for forgiveness in my heart to my first love.

The challenges that came ahead have tested my love for him over and over and over again.

And to be honest -  I didn't hold on for long.

So, to Lance, I repeatedly say in my heart,

"Please forgive me."