Why did I ask the questions I didn't want to know the answers to?

The Stats:

Loved: 2, including me

Kissed: "I forgot" (which really must mean: too many to count, including me)

Slept with: 4, including me

I am not happy with these numbers.
I am the fourth. I am the fourth. I am the fourth.

What's bothered me is that I cannot accept that I've loved this man the whole time, who has done these things but I just didn't know about them before--so why should it change the way or the degree to which I love him?
I'm bothered because I realized my love is conditional, my heart is jealous and judgmental and I am a selfish lover. I don't want to be thrown into that lot with the rest. 

The boys who have walked into my life and I've lent a little of myself to:

Kristopher Ryan Roxas Manuel

Robert Rodriguez

Paul John Bunuan Tamayo

My first love: KRM. Who is your first love?

Why does it feel like I am not letting go of the idea of my first love being the one i end up with? 

So I was thinking in the shower and I have considered the fact that you do not respect God's plan for marriage because of your numbers/stats. I realize that when I'm 30, I probably will not match those stats, but I guess a lot can happen in 5 years. I don't desire to match those numbers either—I want, if it's possible, to erase the existence of those encounters or my knowledge of them. I don't want to think about the other girls you've been with who weren't me. Again, this reflects on me and my hardheaded and stubborn disobedience, because I, too, wasn't willing to wait. I reached for and grabbed what wasn't mine, against God's will and plan for me. #womp

my stats: respectively 2, 3, 2

I might look okay on the outside, but in the inside I'm a mess. In this picture I was sick inside, tormented and in mental anguish. There was a storm within me. Apparent in that day's outfit selection, I felt like the tattered, broken me needed to cover up with something militarized to organize the chaos. My life is unsatisfactory, rough and tumble.