My first love is someone that I truly and genuinely loved with all my heart. He was everything I ever wanted in a guy. If I were to conceptualise a list of ten desired qualities in a guy, he would score eleven out of ten.
He was my other half, this uncomprehendingly wonderful being that fulfilled my life, so much so that I sometimes doubted his existence and thought that I had contrived him in a dream.
I was 15 when we met and 16 when we dated, He was my first real boyfriend. His name–peter, and I couldn’t have been more of an idiot in love with him. We were inseparable at first—literally, our bodies were intertwined a lot at the beginning.
My friends made fun of me, and rightfully so. It didn’t matter though; I knew I wanted to spend forever with him. Forever ended up being 11 months. I had known him as a friend for a couple months previously and we did love each other.
He has really dark hair. It normally looks brown but in the light it shimmers black. He likes playing cards to pass the time. Between school and brigade practices he barely had any time for himself. But the ambition and hard work is a good trait to have. He has a slim figure. He has light skin. He wore sleeves most of the time — His Element brand.
White and blue were his favorite colors–I don’t know about that now though and they suited him well. He is really smart and has so much potential and also very stubborn and opinionated. In any argument, he always has to be right, but eventually would let me win.
Love was in the air, love was everywhere. First feelings are always special, new, unexplored, coupled with childish innocence and a pure vision of the world. I was 15 when I fell in love with him. We lived nearby and our mutual friend often visited each of us.
The first time I saw him, I decided that he was the most perfect human being on the earth. The only presence of him nearby made me feel happy and delighted. Despite my age, I already understood that the world is made of love and it’s one of the reasons that inspires mankind to live and create. We spent much time together, we had endless themes to talk about! In the street we had a special place, where we dreamed and talked.
One day I was sitting outside with an umbrella, the rain was dripping endlessly, a big lollipop in my mouth. I felt him hug me from the back and we continued sitting side-by-side and I handed one lollipop to him .
And at the end he stole one quick kiss, as quickly as his lips landed on mine, it left just as quickly. It was funny and unusual. I liked to pick this memory from my pocket on nasty days, and life turns bright. The memories are so deep and clear, I was still young, hanging around and singing beautiful songs about love.
My first love, I will always remember it as clear as day. He said always, I said forever. We got along perfectly just him and me. We saw a future, potential and a family.
We talked everyday and he’d always check on me, no fighting, just love and glee. And three months after our breakup I still waited to see him come back to me. He inspired me, challenged me and loved me just as I was: quirks, flaws and all.
He touched my soul so deeply that I was completely vulnerable to his grasp, which was always tender and caring. He taught me what it felt like to truly love someone down to your core; what it felt like to constantly live with a burning desire, so strong that it actually pains you, and he showed me the perpetually engulfing warmth of deep, flaming, impassioned,mad love.
He dreamed up delightful visions of our future together – bright enough for both our imaginations. I loved every element of his soul. What he deemed flawed, I saw as more reasons to love him.
I loved his heartwarming smile when he became too excited about a topic of conversation; that floppy wisp of hair that he could never seem to control; the way he overused word(s) when describing his passions; his shyness when wearing ripped jeans, letting my compliments bounce off him like a tennis ball to a solid wall; the sad smile he made that accompanied a vacant stare when hearing about the death of my brothers; his confidence that was always accompanied by a tiny crevice of self-doubt, a nook that I constantly tried to fill; and his overwhelming passion for life and love: always optimistic, always grateful, always pure and true.
Our conversations were energy-filled debates of love and adoration: bursting with excitement of sharing our knowledge, truths, love and yearning to include each other in every capillary of our lives. He was my perfect puzzle piece: an over-thinker, a relentless inspiration-seeker, forever a solitary explorer,believing that life is meant for loving,and happiness is meant for sharing.
He was a down-to-earth guy, his presence an eternally rare gift. He encouraged my passions and was also my reality. My heart was safely, snuggly wrapped in a blanket of his pulchritudinous love; and so I always carried him with me, wherever I went, in my sub-conscience, in my actions, in my thoughts, in my activities.
It was as though we were one, and I was just one half of this amazingly surreal, perfect concept of us. With him by my side, I felt like I could conquer the world, reach all my goals and dream up inconceivable dreams; but with him by my side, I was just as content with dropping everything for a simple, happy life of togetherness.
I couldn’t love him enough. He was my first love, and my first heartbreak. Life without him brought me inconceivable pain. It was a pain that represented the few fighting rays of sunshine through the fog of my life; pain that set me on a path of self-discovery; pain that demanded me to keep learning; pain that taught me what it really meant to feel; and pain that forced me to open my eyes that had been blinded by the illusion that the distance between us was merely physical and not emotional.
Losing him, my entire world and the person I depended on for happiness, was a reality check of note: I was forced to avoid all distractions and take a cold, hard look at myself and finally be honest about my aspirations and how I wanted to reach them.
I had to forget about everyone else’s opinions and uncover the truth about how I felt –something I had hidden to make life easier: a demon that I should have addressed before I met him. I had to start creating my own happiness; and wow, what a challenge that has been. It’s hard to live with should haves and the mourning of unspoken words,unfulfilled moments and future memories left blank. I was desolate.
My best friend,angel, tried everything but I was an inconsolable mess. Nothing was okay. I wanted everything to go back to normal. I wanted to go to his place and cuddle up with him. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted him back. But the reality of our breakup was too real.
As awful as it was — Couple months later, I couldn’t be more grateful for all the lessons that I learned from it. My respect for him runs deeper than the darkest depths of the ocean.