My First Love

This is a short piece about my first love and how our love story went.

Taking a stroll down memory lane and thinking about him brought up mixed emotions. I didn't know whether to cry or smile, but, in the end, I think I did both. My lips curved into a smile when I remembered our memories together. Reminiscing about Him was great. He (name withheld) was a perfect definition of cool and good-looking guys often mentioned in love stories. He was my first love, the first person my heart yearned passionately for. Exaggerations aside, he was handsomeness itself.

A few years ago, we met at school. He was my classmate, and fortunately for me, he became my seatmate. I gave him little or no attention then because I hardly talked to guys. I was one girl who was always buried in her own world, never prying into another person's planet. Of course, that changed when he became my seatmate. He made sure he said something to me at every slightest opportunity he got. Most times, I would wonder what the nature of his problem was because I did not really understand why someone would try to be friends with someone who was not in any way ready to make friends. As expected, I could not be buried in my shell forever, I started giving him an audience, and to my little knowledge then, He was the funniest person in the world. We became tight friends; we were so inseparable. I remember the day he looked at me and said, "You strike me as the female version of me...And if there is anybody I would want to be...That would be you". Oh! Those words made butterflies run in my stomach. I felt on top of the world.

How can I even forget the day he asked me out? The day was wow! I least expected it. He called me that day and asked me to follow him somewhere, and yes, I did. When we got there, he said, "I have fallen in love with you; I don't know how to explain it in a way you will understand, but please, be my girlfriend." Being happy was an understatement. I said yes to him with immediate alacrity. Our love was so intense, so strong. But, as the usual saying goes, "Whatever has a beginning must definitely have an end." Our love was short-lived when his father got transferred to another town, and as expected, he was to move with his parents. Tears welled up in my eyes the day it was announced that he was not going to be coming to our school again. I cried my eyes out that day. He said goodbye to me with teary eyes and promised to always get in touch with me, but deep down in me, I knew that was the end of the relationship, though I did not voice it out. My fears and thoughts were confirmed when there was really no communication between us. I knew that constant communication was the bridge needed to connect us together in our relationship, so when the calls were reduced to a drastic level, I needed not a seer to be told that the relationship was over. I brooded about it for a while and later decided to let it go. I moved on with my life, and I am sure he also did. Maybe it was not really love; maybe it was just infatuation, or what do you think?

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