Day 10 – Your First Love

I think I sort of dreaded writing this one to be honest.  4-5 years have passed since my first love so why do I get the heeby-jeebies when I start to write this.  (Wtf, Did I really just say heeby-jeebies?)  Anyway, maybe it’s all the tears and fighting that have been an undulating high and low of emotions.  *sigh* I sure do not miss that.

First love. Such a trip. *Warning this post is going to be a memory dump, and not well-written*

I don’t know where this post is going because, considering the last 4 months of our relationship consisted of an ocean of tears. But the first 8 months were a dream because my first love was my first boyfriend, first kiss, first boy I ever really talked to, my first everything.

We met at a non-profit organization that I was volunteering at during the summer entering my junior year of high school. And I think what attracted to me was his passion for the cause. He was so active in voicing his opinions and getting out there to help out in any way he could. At this time, I was very shy and not like how I am now. A small group of interns and I met everyday over the summer and that’s how we really got to know each other to eventually exchange IM info., inside jokes…the next thing I knew he was planning a surprise sweet sixteen for me.  I remember he dressed in a nice shirt and tie for it too. He was a total romantic. My first kiss was the end of that night. Happy birthday to me.

We were inseparable. I cannot believe the lengths we went to see each other. He went to school in the city, yet everyday made the commute to see me after school. or sometimes I would take an hour bus ride to him after school. I had to do it. We were so naively in love that I couldn’t spend even a second without missing him and feeling sad about not being by his side.

He remembered every little thing I told him and would make them come true. I remember just one time in the summer I told him how I’d never seen the Radio City Christmas show but wanted to see it. Next thing I knew, for Christmas we were in Radio City Hall. We wrote each other lengthy mushy gushy love letters on the first of every month (when we were first “established”) I snuck out of the house at night, took a cab all the way to Queens to see him.  Every night, we talked on the phone until we fell asleep about endless nothings-even about marriage. I flaked on my friends to see him. (Something I still feel sorry for to this day). I was head over heels. It was nobody but me and him.

I don’t know when it all started falling apart, but I guess we were way too much in love that we couldn’t stand the other even talking to another girl or another guy. We would fight excessively over the very few guy friends that I had. He would get upset if a shirt was not entirely covering me (even if it really was). It was almost obsessive. I wasn’t allowed to drink or go out without his permission or him there. and I foolishly listened to him. Because I loved him. I wanted to make him happy even if I had to suppress so many of my own desires and wants. After a while, it just started going down hill. We fought, made up, cried every. single. day. Everyday was an emotional roller-coaster. But we still couldn’t part from each other.

To try to recreate the spark between us, I planned an elaborate surprise birthday for him the end of June. I planned a scavenger hunt for him all around Flushing with clues taped on areas of inside jokes, memorable places, etc. One of the places was a park, where I laid out a picnic waiting for him. And then gave him his next clue. At the end of the day, the last clue led to a restaurant where all his friends were waiting for him with a cake I made for the occasion as well. After all that, of course the light in our relationship was re-lit….Until I left for my mission trip in Tanzania that summer. I experienced so many changes-one of which was truly discovering God. I was gone for a month and a half and we were unable to contact each other at all during that time.

On August 1, I found a phone and the second it hit 12AM that day, I called him to wish him a happy one year anniversary. I expected him to be absolutely thrilled and wonderfully surprised, like any other normal human being would be. But he just seemed almost bothered that I called him. I knew something was wrong but we didn’t have time to talk about it because minutes were running out on my phone. After I returned, we broke up.  Not what I needed to hear during such an unstable phase in my life.  He gives me a b.s. reason about why but I knew it was because he was leaving for college that fall.
I was completely heartbroken and destroyed, I needed somebody there for me after all the changes I’ve been going through. I needed him.  But it was such a healing process.

After I healed with time and the help of God, I felt the power of independence and strength overcome me. I would never let anyone take advantage of me like that and toy with me like that ever again.  My heartbreak from my first love created a stepping stone to one of the biggest changes of my life.  I cut my hair short: a symbol of a new me. Strong. Independent. Not afraid to express myself. Not afraid to talk back.  I was always a strong believer of the trite phrase: “Everything happens for a reason.” For reals, it did.

Ever since then, I’ve never been able to fully trust any guy after, open up to any guy, or be vulnerable in any way.  I’ve always tried, but it was always with fail that I was ever able to expose myself and let myself go again.  I became like a clam that may peek open slowly, but then quickly shut close tightly again.  But I am such a mushy-gushy fluffy softie inside. And I’m the type of person, where when I love someone/something, my love and loyalty is boundless beyond anything of this world.

I know that with time the right man will come along, where I’ll be able to fall in love again and do all silly little things that love makes you do.  For now, I wait.  I’m slow to trust, but quick to accept others.  I want to fall in love again and want to do these crazy things.  But then again, it’s just not the time.  I’ve got myself and my life to focus on. 🙂 It’ll come at the right time. I’m sure.


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