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My First Love Short Essay

He was everything I ever wanted in a man. If I were to conceptualise a list of ten desired qualities in a man, 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. 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 stutter 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 the word perpetually when describing his passions; his shyness when wearing his glasses, 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 remembering happy memories of a loved one lost; 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 joie de vivre; 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 loved and took note of life’s simple pleasures, like a steaming cup of tea, aged wine, the smell of old books, the beauty in the silliness of a fit of uncontrollable laughter, the underrated phenomena of a thunderstorm, the crinkles in my nose when I laugh and the unique story to the cracks and pops of a spinning vinyl. He was a down-to-earth man, taking a liking to the distinctive story behind every object, location and individual, equipped with the remarkable ability to connect with your soul; his presence an eternally rare gift. He encouraged my passions, loving the way I wrote words that I had never spoken, and my constant desire to make them bounce off the pages on which they were written. But he was also was my reality: pulling me back down to earth when I had floated too far into space.

“The timing was wrong.”

He knew me better than I knew myself; he guided me towards a more beautiful life and opened my eyes to a wonderful, dazzling world that he helped create for me. 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. The timing was wrong.

I was in the winter of my life, stuck in an icicle of numbness: too afraid to completely give my heart, but wanting to with every fiber of my being. My life was a circulating frustration, filled with demons of the past, and I needed to find myself before he found me. I was hiding behind a mask of optimism, running away from the claws of my emotions. He came into my life at a very fragile time, and soon discovered that loving a conscious woman is hard work. I wanted simple; however, the new me and the life I was leading was far from simple. I was frustrated with him for the way he made me feel: filled with so much love, adoration and desire that he became a need – an unbeknown feeling to me; and I, like many other over-thinkers and women plagued by feminist ideals, was sadly too afraid to dive into the unknown, to listen to him beyond just hearing his spoken words, to mirror the support and respect that he gave me…

I was ill, lost in anger and trapped in my routine, too afraid to admit that what I wanted in life was beyond what I had. I should have realised that I was sick: I stopped writing, reading, watching films, enjoying music, exploring the world that was on my doorstep, and I had lost my hunger for the taste of new experiences – core elements of the woman that I am. Drowning in self-loathing, my full glass of frustration soon overflowed onto him, the one person that understood me and the only one I allowed close enough to my heart to be my comfort. I should have painfully pushed my pride aside, and accepted that my frustration was caused by my routine, my lifestyle, and my refusal to accept that what I thought I wanted out of life, and the pathway that I had taken, was incorrect.

Despite the fact that he was faced with the toughest time of his life, a time of loss, unwanted change and unimaginable sadness, he was still there for me; and I was undeserving. He would approach me with love and delight, and I would respond with a blank stare and silent tears creeping down my cheeks – tormented by my own frustrations that I simply couldn’t understand. I could not give him the love and support that he needed, and it lead to a pointless war within. I was not ready for his love, as much as I desperately thirsted to be ready for it.

He was my first love, and my first heartbreak.

Life without him brought me inconceivable pain: pain that turned out to be my greatest teacher. 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 means 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 yearned for his forgiveness, knowing that it wasn’t him, but me. I am thankful for the fact that I was never granted the opportunity to ask for it, due to the high wall that he had built between us, separating the beginnings of his new life from the memory of us, because it lead me to the realisation that I first needed to forgive myself. The heartbreak was self-inflicted, and I will carry the weight of that with me for the rest of my life.

Life after him has been filled with self-discovery, enlightenment, change, a new lifestyle, new perspective, wisdom and a new-found confidence. I am finally in a place of contentment and decisiveness: knowing that where I am right now is where I am meant to be. I am now capable of love and support, and I have accepted and grown from the flaws of my failed relationship and its lessons. I am now myself: the woman I tried to hide, and the woman that he loved, hidden beneath the facade of what I was trying to be. The journey to where I am now has been incredibly tough, but I have somehow healed through rediscovering myself: through writing, listening, observing and living; not in numbness, but in fully immersing myself in life’s experiences. The realisation that guilt is a wasted emotion and finally having the courage to forgive myself took time, six months to be exact, but the freeing feelings of elation, relief and exuberance that followed are what have now come to define me as a woman.

Ironically, we are better fitting puzzle pieces now more than ever before, but the memory of the pain I caused him and the knowledge of its compounding nature will forever separate him from me.

It is always hard to choose a tense when talking, writing or thinking about him, because my feelings for him will eternally be unchanged. My respect for that man runs deeper than the darkest depths of the ocean. We met at the wrong time, and that’s okay. I have come to accept it, and hope that someday, maybe somehow, we’ll meet, enjoy a cup of tea together, reminisce and escape in one last serene moment of shared happiness. Sadly, I cannot tell my heart when to stop beating for the person who has long since stopped listening for its rhythms.

One thing is infinitely certain: he will forever be the one who woke me up, and for that, I will always love him.

Read this: To That Person I Fell In Love With When The Timing Was Just Not Right

Read this: I Could’ve Loved You, But You Wouldn’t Let Me

Read this: You Can’t Find Love Because You’re Looking In The Wrong Places

Love Short Story – My First Love

I was just thirteen years old when I fell in love with a boy four or five years older than me.It was the most ecstatic feeling and I still cannot get over it, as they say when a woman falls in love, she can never fall in love again, although I was a teenager then, but I still have vivid memories of that boy and how I felt for him.

I was a smart, bubbly and  a cute little teenager, who enjoyed life and was living life to the fullest, when suddenly life changed for me. I had set my eyes on him the first time when he had come to the colony park and he was chatting with his friends. I found him so handsome, his curly , dark brown hair and large dark brown eyes! I was floored! Though now when I look back , I laugh it off as mere infatuation, but I don’t know why I felt an instant connection with him, when he looked into my eyes, my heart fluttered and I used to feel so nervous and excited at the same time.

You won’t believe it, but I never spoke to him, but still I felt a strong connection to him, he was so handsome and so good looking, that whenever I used to look at him I could not stop myself from staring at him and he hardly bothered to even turn around and look at me.For him I was insignificant as I was much smaller than him, therefore he hardly even tried to take any interest in me.Each day when I used to go to the park I used do up my hair differently and wear my best of dresses to look nice lest he spots me there, but everyday he used to be so engrossed in chatting and playing with his friends that he hardly took notice of me.

I was so mad after him that I used to stand in the balcony for hours on end, just to get a glimpse of him and sometimes I used to keep peeping out of the window, so that I could see him playing in the park, but I would spot him only a few times, rest of the times I would just just sadly retreat to my studies or doing some other work.

As days passed things remained the same when slowly and gradually he started noticing that I stare at him all the time, when I am around him, in the park or in any shop nearby. Once I remember I was standing in the neighbourhood Bakery and he suddenly walked in with his friends, probably to buy something. I turned around and as usual started staring at him and he was standing opposite me when suddenly a lot of people came in between us and it was a funny situation and I could see just one half of his face and I caught him staring at me with one eye!I was shocked as it was so sudden and the depth with which he was staring at me cannot be explained in words.There was admiration and tender love in them! I then left the Bakery feeling very shy and till now I cannot forget that look of his in the Bakery.

Another time I felt very shy was when we both passed each other when I was coming back from school.We were walking on the side of the road and he suddenly saw me walking down the road, swaying my bag along my side.He was chatting with his friend and when I passed him,  I stopped swaying my bag and I quietly tried to pass him and then he turned around and looked fondly at me! I walked away feeling shy and embarrassed at the same time. Anytime I came in direct contact with him and whenever he looked at me I always felt a soft tenderness in his eyes and the warmth of his heart touched me deep inside.

This boy was very tall and fair and had the loveliest hair and a very smart moustache and whenever I looked at him I went weak in my knees. I used to dream of him being near me and talking to me and we spending time with each other, but I could never muster enough courage to ever stand in front of him and talk to him.I was too small and too naive to even think of it! Things went on in this way for a few months and nothing happened till one fine day when he smiled at me! Just imagine my prince charming smiled at me, finally he took notice of me, and I must tell you, it was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen!

I was coming back from school one evening and he was sitting on his bike and waiting for his friend.He saw me coming and when I passed him he did not do anything, but  when I went  a little further and turned around as I heard some noise behind me and I looked at him, he smiled at me, I was too shocked to respond in any way.I turned around and went to my home.I did not know what to do ,but I was mesmerised by his first smile.It was so sudden that I was at a loss of words as to what should my next step be,but fate had other plans for me . Just imagine my bad luck, that when I could think of having a relationship with him, as he had finally acknowledged my presence and smiled at me, I had to go, I had to leave the city for good!

My father was transferred to another town and I had to leave the very next day!I had to travel all alone, as my father had arranged for school admissions in that town and so I had to leave.I could have had a beautiful relationship with this boy whose name also I did not know!I don’t know till  now whether it was love at first sight with him or was it infatuation, but one thing I must say and that is, that I will never forget him ever and all that I felt for him.Certainly it was my first love, whether it was infatuation or not I don’t know,but it was my first experience of any exposure to the opposite sex and you won’t believe it that I could never like any other person ever in my life after that, other than my husband!

First love is like a fresh blooming flower in the morning sunlight,it is like the first most memorable fragrance you might have smelt in your entire life! It is the most wonderful feeling anyone can ever have and those of you who are reading this story, might feel that I am crazy as I am calling my first crush to be my first love, but only I know how I felt when I was around him and when he looked into my eyes,it was the most ultimate feeling I have ever had in my life.It is unforgettable and I still cherish those tender feelings I had for him!

All of those among who have such first loves or crushes as mine will very well understand what I am talking about and when their love does not reach any culmination then  they will also feel the same way that I am feeling.Whenever I feel very lonely and lost I think of him and I ask God that why he did not unite me with him, why am  I subjected to such misery of losing my love at such a tender age.Although I am happy in my present life but when I think of him I cannot console myself.

Anyways those are ways of God no one can question them,but again I want to reiterate that that was my first love and I will never forget it ever.

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Read more English Short Story by preetirawal123 in category Love and Romance with tag boy | Friends | Life | school

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