The Tragic First.

I remember my first kiss like it was five seconds ago, it’s one of those things  I don’t have to try to remember, I just do. I remember the world giving us a moment of silence, I remember the seductive glow of the sunset, I remember the smell of burnt grass and the promise of youth, I remember the soft breeze that carried dense emotions into forever. I remember the last thought that crossed my mind before my heart stopped beating, I remember hearing the echo of my own voice ranting about this and that before it all because useless. I remember him.

I will never forget the confusion that flooded me the first time I felt that knot In my stomach when he touched me, and only when he touched me. I remember how my body used to feel his presence, even before I lay eyes on him, the way I used to blush at his every word and how sincere it all was. There is something safe about loving with the ignorance of pain, of giving your whole self to someone because you haven’t discovered disappointment. There is something ruthless and dangerous about a first love.

As for me I shared both in one, my first love was my first boyfriend, first kiss and pretty much everything down the line, somedays I feel like I was robbed of the experience of diversity. Well, at least o can safely say I shared all my special firsts with the one person I loved purely in the absence of doubt, with a heart that held no bitterness from previous heartbreaks or any insecurities, I loved him with a complete love, before parts of me stayed with every other person I tried to recreate my first love with.

There is a special kind of magic that comes with doing something for the first time, a rare enchantment that cannot be recreated – something I learnt a little too late in life. It will never feel like it did the first time and you may spend too much of your time and lose too much of yourself trying to find that feeling but you never will, because your heart knows what it knows, it cannot ignore what it has felt and what it has learnt. It simply won’t beat the same way it did before, your body just won’t jump the way it did the first time and seeking the euphoria of the first simply undermines the relevance of the now because each moment has its own charm.

I will tell my children to hold on to their hearts and bodies and keep the magic of their first for as long as they can so that they don’t go too long in life on a never-ending chase for treasures they’ve already uncovered. You get an incredible first only once in a lifetime and spend the rest of your life hoping that at least you get a worthy last that covers up for the unfulfilling in-betweens. It’s a rather cruel concept. Cruel, but true.