When the ex becomes a mrs.

She was my first love. I had girlfriends before her but i only experienced love when i met her. It was an exhilarating feeling, it made me giddy and there was a bond between us that made us act and think as partners, friends and lovers. They say that you never truly forget your first love. I attest to the truth of this claim.

Its not important how we separated after more than 3 years together. The only thing that is important is that we did, and it saddened me to no end when it happened. That was a long time ago, we've both moved on with our lives but we've always been friends, always keeping touch with the other, lending a helping hand whenever needed, being the voice of reason for each other when chaos threatened to take over.

When she called to tell me that she was getting engaged on Christmas day, with the wedding sometime next April, i went silent. She thought i had hung up, i was so quiet. In those few seconds, a million emotions surged through me and it took a moment to keep them in check. I congratulated her and wished her well. Truly, i was happy for her - she's been waiting for this day a long time, and now that it was finally here, i knew how much it meant to her.

But, i was sad for myself. It felt as though i was losing a part of myself in an irrevocable manner. I have no illusions - when we separated, i knew that we would never be together again. She's just that type of person, and so am i. And still, hearing the news... i'm not sure i have enough words to describe how i felt at that moment besides a feeling of pure sadness. The last time i felt myself moved that way was when my beloved grandmother passed on. That time, i couldn't stop crying for days and it was as though part of me had died too; she was like a second mother to me, sometimes there for me even when no one else was.

This time, the ex is going to be a mrs. I promised her i would witness her wedding; she really wants me to be there. I suspect, even after all these years, i am still as important to her as she is to me. So i will be there, come the ides of March. And part of me will die once more.