We were too young. Not in age, but in experiences. I was your second. And your first. I was either firsts or seconds. You needed more time and space. I knew this from the beginning, but didn’t dare warn you. I didn’t dare say no whenever you invited me over, or whenever we made plans for the future. I knew it was too early but I was too selfish.
We were too young. You were too young. In experiences. You lived in the same place your whole life. Been brought up where you were born. Held on to this security. You hadn’t experienced enough, and I kind of envied you for that.
We were too young. I was too young. Too young to think that, because of everything I have been through, I had it all figured out. Too young to think that I had grown, and even though I did, I never had grown in the way I thought I had, because being realistic was still too hard.
We were too young. Too young to live the life we thought we could have. Too young to settle with what we had. Too young to give up. Too young to fight. Too young to sacrifice. Too young to truly give.
We were too young. Too young to realise differences would eventually drive us apart. Too young to realise ‘meant to be’ isn’t true. Too young to realise ‘no matter what’ takes two people. Too young to realise ‘forever’ is an impossibly long time.
I was too young. Too young to realise this time was no different.