“The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end” -- Benjamin Disraeli
As I mentioned in my previous post, I saw my first love at Saturday night's reunion party. Our reunion was really a Facebook meet up and my first love doesn't even have a Fb account, so seeing him was unexpected.
First loves are so wonderful, so innocent. We were each others first love. We shared so much with each other. We talked openly, we cried together. We also had a very troubled relationship.
There is something about my first love that grips me. For instance when he walked into the bar and our eyes met, there was such a visible sweetness there. It was evident as we hugged longer than I hugged anyone else that night and he shouted over the music that he missed me (we speak often but we haven't seen each other in about 5 years), and as he grabbed my hand so I could lead him through the bar where his friends were.
Outwardly we were the envy of our schoolmates. And on Saturday night, I did not imagine the catty looks we received as we walked while holding hands and taking pictures together. However in high school, through thick, thin and stupidity, we stayed together. I've always been a tyrant and I run a tight ship. My first love didn't get away with a thing but he drove me nuts simply by trying my love and patience.
As first loves do, we outgrew each other... really he met another girl in summer school and I met another guy on a weekend trip with my mom. But a bad accident brought us back together again. Because of the severity of his accident, he lost about 2 months worth of his memory and we broke up 2 weeks before, so when he emerged from his coma, the 1st person he called on was me and because I loved him, I came running.
His memory eventually returned or his friends reminded him that we had broken up and one Tuesday night as I visited with him, he asked me why I kept coming to see him - traveling from the Bronx to school in Manhattan to the hospital in Brooklyn only to leave Brooklyn, late at night, ride through Manhattan and end up back in the Bronx, all on public transportation! - even though we weren't officially together. The answer was "Because I love you".
I cherish the wonderful memories of my first love and sometimes I relish in them. I remember thinking and believing that he would be the man that I married. Sometimes I imagine the "what if" and the "what could have been". I always thought my first love would be my last love. I never could have fathomed that we would end. I know most women have this very same wish...
He is still single, eligible, and if ever I need anything from him, no matter the cost or time or the inconvenience, he will accommodate. His role as my first love and emerging in later years as a friend has helped to mold me into the woman I am. Indeed there was something very magical about us and the sparks of it shone at the reunion. It was beautiful.