When I was 8, my first love was a boy who had buck teeth and girly hands. I liked him because he gave me his Mexican chilli flavoured simba chips for my peanut butter sandwich. He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything but I liked the fact that he was so generous.
When i was 9, I liked a white South African named Emmanuel. He was a transfer student and that meant everyone wanted to be his friend. He had blue eyes and I couldn’t help but stare and want to touch his blonde hair. He went away the next year and I never saw him again. Never even got the chance to say I liked him. The plot twist here was I later found our from a mutual friend that he likes my eyes. He thought they were big BUT he liked them. That was something right?
Then came my teen years, I was 13 and doing my final year of primary school. The following year would mean big kids school with a locker and all. Another transfer student came, my other other first love. He looked like a mix between a darker Ronaldo and Pharell. Here was the boy who was going to be a constant cause of tears for a few years.
He was one of the cool kids and I was the smart sometimes cool girl. Cliche right? I loved how badass he was. I mean what dude wore the black no lace Jack Parcell shoes with his school uniform? I liked him so much I would jump when the teacher asked someone to go do something at his class.
He told my friend he liked me and that was the beginning. I was in love with him or so I thought. Anyway our relationship ended 5 years later. Five years of an on and off relationship that saw me crying on my pillow and writing sad poetry.
I called him my first love and thought he had been. I was 18 now and in a “sort of” relationship with a classmate . Between our stolen kisses in the class storeroom and our cute “lets sit next to each other” texts we were the definition of teenage fun.
later he found someone else and it ended. I cried and moved on. Decided he wasn’t worth it. Then came my twenties. Wow. Now this gets interesting . I met a boy at 20 he was 22. He was tall and exciting and a badass.we had a thing that made me realise maybe he was my first love . It was my first adult relationship and it was exciting and fun and sometimes wild. It was everything I wanted doubled up with everything I thought i could never get. It went on for almost two years. I won’t even go on about what transpired because that’s not the point I guess .
Right now I realise my first love is not anyone. It’s me and its my writing. It’s my love for my grandfather. It’s my goals. I realise my first love is all the things that make me smile like really really smile.
I spent my years looking for love in people..I was dreaming up scenarios and building futures in my head. This was me painting a life I thought i wanted. I was changing Ken dolls and playing house with them in my head.
My love is expensive now and I don’t give it up just easily. I’m glad I’m now learning to love myself and put me first. I’m glad I’m now aware of what the essence of love is.
P.S My love is writing and This week a short story I wrote was featured on brittlepaper. This was truly one of the best things to happen to me.
Heres my love loving me back.❤