To The Boy I've Loved Before

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before is probably one of my favorite movies to watch on Netflix.

So much that I even got the trilogy books and I’m currently on the sequel – social media has the tendency of ruining any show so I’m glad that this movie is sort of in the shadows.

Kind of like me.

Anyways, the reason why I love the concept in the movie is because I see myself in Covey a lot.

Lara Jean Song Covey is the protagonist of the story line. She wrote 5 letters to all the boys she loved before through her life (she’s only like….16?). After she finds out the letters were sent out by her little sister, poor thing, she really did have good intentions;

Lara Jean made a contract with one of the boys who got the letter, Peter Kavinsky. Lara and Peter end up falling for each other and blah blah – just watch the movie, you’ll thank me later.

I have a letter of my own that I’ve been wanting to send out specifically to my Peter but since this isn’t a movie, I’ll just post it on here instead.

Dear Peter,

I fell for you probably the hardest I fell for anyone. I’m certain because I put you before myself and I’ve never and still don’t do that for just anybody. I remember looking up jobs out of state because you wanted to move to the West Coast to start your career.

I remember talking about our future wedding and showing you my Pinterest board when I added something new. You honestly were my best friend and I couldn’t imagine life without you.

While I gave you all of me, you gave me half of you. I was all yours, but you were only half mine.

While I was willing to spend my life with you, you knew exactly the date and time you were going to return me back.

Without a receipt, you left me on the counter and walked away.

That’s where I lost my self-worth.

You walked away with my heart beating in your hands and till this day I suffer from palpitations. I opened my life to you in ways I shouldn’t of. I was so vulnerable and naïve.

The flings, the dates, any guy who laid their eyes on me, I pictured you.

I wanted you to still be the one telling me good morning.

I wanted you to still be the one to tell me my hair is a mess.

I wanted you to kiss my forehead one more time.

When it came to sports, we had so much fun talking about football and baseball. All the times we would go to sports bars with our different jerseys and cheering on our teams while trying to be discrete and not smirk when one of our teams was losing and all we wanted to do was gloat.

It was only a few months that we were together, but I still cherish those moments deep in my heart. As corny as it may sound, you made my heartbeat like an ESPN notification. (That's how much I love sports, btw).

I remember the last few days we were a union.

I noticed the change, but I ignored the red flags because I thought it was just a phase. But a phase became a habit I’d have to live with.

You left me high and dry.

You know what happened during my best friend’s wedding last weekend? I thought of how she told me “he’s literally you.” I remember she said that during a game night – during a holiday, probably Christmas. Yeah, it had to be Christmas because that was the last holiday we spent together.

After her wedding, her cousin handed me his jacket because he saw that I was cold. I didn’t even ask him.

He just offered. Secretly, I wished that was you.

I remember opening up to a friend about my love life. I told her how much I wanted a wedding, a family, a husband. Her response was a screenshot of one of her friends captioned with “Why don’t you just go out with this guy since you’re so desperate?”

Desperate.

That word is still eating me up inside.

That’s why I isolate myself even before this whole quarantine pandemic.

I go through my anxiety attacks, depressive episodes, etc – alone. I’ve gotten so used to being alone that I shelter myself from anybody who tries to come into my comfort zone.

Peter, honestly, I wish you didn’t have this massive hold over me but –

I didn’t get the closure I wish I got. The closure I know I deserved. I haven’t been able to emotionally connect with anyone ever since you and I broke up.

Or – ever since the day you walked away like a little b*tch.

Because let’s face it Peter, a man sits down and communicates how he feels. A b*tch walks away and then a week later sends a vague text with a weak ass apology.

I don’t know if you recall, but when we ran into each other at our favorite spot, I wanted to physically hurt you. I saw you from the corner of my eye and all my rage, sadness, and every emotion possibly wanted to come out.

But all in all, I wanted to bawl my eyes out and ask you what about me wasn’t enough?

What about me made you walk away?

What about me made you think that I deserved to be left?

Another side of me wanted you to come up to me and tell me you were sorry and to give you another chance.

I was dating somebody at the time when I ran into you but none of the emotions, I felt in those couple of seconds did I ever feel with him.

I realized it that moment and when I told him I ran into you and he saw how emotionally I was, he said, “Wow. You must still have feelings for him if you’re still this angry.”

We didn’t last.

He was right.

4 years later – yes, how pathetic. 4 years later and now I’m writing this letter.

You probably forgot my existence or how I look like.

I still have those unworn shoes I bought to wear to your college graduation; the same graduation I was uninvited to.

I’m crying as I write this letter because I forgive you. I forgive you because if I keep this agony and pain, you’re going to keep me hostage and the past can only hold me hostage if I decide to give it power over my life.

Today, I choose something different.

I decide to accept the past and move forward.

I am enough.

No one needs to believe in me but me.

I seek connection not validation.

No amount of attention will be enough unless I validate and love myself.

I deserve someone who uplifts me and validates me.

I’ve come to accept that I can’t always control the events that happen in my life. Sometimes I need to surrender my desire to force a situation to happen my way.

One day I’ll look back and realize why things needed to happen the way they did.

Love,

Alexandra