I had a jerk of a boyfriend once (or maybe twice). He was cute. Short but cute with a silly dimple. He had this nice and quirky smile telling me like he has it all figured out. He had the funny answer to everything. And I was so happy that I had him. I would think from time to time, “I’m such a lucky girl to be loved by him.”

Then the nightmare slowly happened. In summary, I was made to believe that I was the worst girlfriend anyone would ever have. He was very social; loves being around his friends. He had mentioned several times that his friends will mean more to him that I ever will. I’ve been compared to my own best friend who understood his fears and feelings more that I did, that she showed more compassion and understanding. It was my fault that my childhood and past experiences weren’t as unfortunate as his. It was my fault that I couldn’t be as social as he is because my parents did not allow me to go out every weekend.

It was my fault. And I believed that, without him having to say it.

I had told him once lovingly but hurt, “You should go to your friends. I know that you need them more right now and they can help you more.”

He looked at me and said, “You understand me.”

I said, “No. I will never understand, but I accept it.”

I loved him and adored him so much. Needless to say, that even without a touch, I was made to believe that I was wrong. For whatever he saw, I don’t know. He probably didn’t know either.

I was lost and very torn. I know that something was my fault and I couldn’t figure out what. I was just sad and crying. Crying and sad.

We ended up hurting each other. We ended up NOT being together. I continued crying for 3 more months. Because believe or not I really really loved him – but I don’t know why he hated me so much.

Funny thing, 12 years later, today I just figured it out.

For some months after breaking up, I’ve been talking to one of his friend who was concerned. He told me I was a rebound girlfriend. My ex had fallen in love with someone but was too late when he wanted to tell her he loved her. She had found a boyfriend. Then I was chosen to be his — because I just happen to be available.

The good friend who adored him.

Because I already found him funny.
Because I already found him cute.

He told me he liked me.

Then I found his confidence sexy.
Then I wanted to be in his arms for always.

The rebound girlfriend. The girl to prove to everyone that he is NOT the rejected, unlovable person he felt in those moment. The girl who fell in love with him, but he didn’t love back.

Back then, I realized already that I was a rebound girlfriend. People will say again and again, rebounds will mostly not work. I knew it back then too.

But 12 years later, here I am just dawning to me why I was treated so horribly. It is funny. Because it should be obvious back then. Like duh!

Because I wasn’t HER.

Not because of me. Not because I loved him. Not because that how love works.

Because I wasn’t the girl he loved.

That said, now I can finally stop being afraid of getting hurt when I love someone deeply. Because love doesn’t work like that. My first love experience screwed me over but it’s time to break away.

He’s married now. I can honestly say he’d be a funny and dorky but great husband. I can finally remember the great memories of us as friends. I can finally let go.

And you, yes you. The funny guy with a quirky smile with a silly dimple. I miss being friends with you even though it’s been 12 years. We were great friends. Maybe someday we’ll get to meet again.

(Also, I can say whoever gets me is one lucky guy. ‘Coz, babe, I will rock your world. And now, I won’t be afraid if you rock mine.)