"Forever's an awfully long time."

Posts tagged ‘first love’

That immortal first love

Dear you.

Seeing you for the first time in 5 years completely threw me off guard. Seeing you casually leaning against that terrace like you had no other care in the world suddenly made me feel like a first year high school student again.

I had dreamed that when I saw you for the first time after you broke my heart so many times and still made me love you, that I would be the one thing you’d never have. I dreamed of meeting you when I was successful with a license in nursing, slim and beautiful, confident and classy. I had dreamed of making you ask for my number over and over again, and me giving you a smug, simple, NO.

It’s funny how the things we dream about the most almost always don’t end up the way we want them to.

I saw you for the first time, completely out of my element and unprepared. Clumsy. Maybe the make up made me beautiful. I don’t know. All I know is, we saw each other for the first time in 5 years and I am 100% sure that you were just as unprepared as I was.

Surrounded by people who loved us together and loved us apart, I couldn’t help but notice that people were trying to push us together. Make it known that we were the only single pringles at the table. Ask us to pass things to each other, and giggle when we’d put our hands at the most awkward of angles, just to avoid hand and finger touches that would remind me (probably, mostly, hopefully not just me) of 3AM, hand holding and warm palms.

I remember how I was hoping it wasn’t just my imagination when I’d see you out of the corner of my eye, staring at me, or probably the wall behind me. I remember how I’d stare at you, wondering how in the world did it come to this? And then of course, the inevitable game of eye tag, where we try our hardest not to catch the other staring at us.

And I remember wondering what in the world had happened to me? Here I was; so sure that I had moved on and forgotten. So sure that my heart belonged to someone else. Only to be turned upside down, just by looking at you.

So suddenly sure that I had not moved on. So suddenly sure that among all of the crushes I had, among all those ‘loves’ and hits and misses, you were the one who stood out. And then it became clear to me. I had not moved on. Not even close. I had merely pushed you to the back of my mind, forgotten. Because if I had moved on, before leaving you for an indefinite amount of years, I would have walked up to you that night, looked you in the eye, and said goodbye. Said goodbye with the finality of someone who had moved on.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even say goodbye. Not even until the very last second. I felt like such a coward.

And so, as I talk with my psychologist friend and ponder about these feelings, I, by the power vested in me, pronounce you (you, not the friend) as my first love.

And I also pronounce you as not dead.

Love, me.

August 31

Among all the dates in the world, besides my birthday, my immediate family’s birthday, and holidays, August 31 sticks out.

It’s his birthday today, and I have never forgotten this date. For the past seven years, I have not forgotten that. 

The fact that I’m even writing something about this means that he still means something to me. And I’m not proud of it.

I am supposed to be over you, I am supposed to have closure. I am supposed to be strong, and I am supposed to concentrate on who I love now.

But why am I weak? Why are you the one who makes me bend, and fall down at my knees? How can I not be in love with you and yet so affected by you?

You were never my boyfriend. But you were my first love. You were the first to touch my heart. You were the first one who liked me the way I liked you.

I remember your birthday four years ago; you wore the shirt I gave and picked out for you the Christmas before.

I remember how you used to pace with me. I remember how we had to whisper that night so that no one would wake up.

I remember you were the first one to cuddle with me while watching a scary movie. There is so much I remember.

Maybe one day I’ll finally forget. Maybe one day I’ll finally learn, but I don’t think today is that day.

So happy birthday, Pierre. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. I miss you like crazy, happy birthday to you.

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