My first love was the first boy to call me funny. (Though I did find out years later that it wasn’t funny haha, but funny shaking my head. Oh well!)
My first love was fun and smart and considerate. He was a good friend to his friends and masked his kindness with jokes and jabs so he would not come off as ‘weak’. He respected people and never tried to force his will on anyone. No matter what. He loved out loud and never cared who was looking. My first love was a decent guy.
Naturally, the heartbreak (a first too) was such a blow… below the belt. Knocked the wind right out of my lungs. It was almost laughable if it wasn’t so painful. I’d like to think that I saw it coming but…
Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.
(1 Corinthians 10:12, KJV)
Different context; solid advice.
The thing about love and heartbreak is, I believe it is relevant in character development. It is a very vivid example of “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. Personally, I endorse it. I feel like no matter what happens, it is always worth the risk. No matter how ‘trashy’ the end is, there’s always at least one moment when you look at your person and think, “Boy, am I lucky!” or some derivative of that. Those moments… gold.
No matter how I look at it though, if I was asked to do it all over again, I would. I don’t think I could’ve done much to stop the dreadful, gut-wrenching ending, but the road that led to it was everything to write about. Good stuff.
I guess that’s why every time I think about it, there’s a certain contentedness that accompanies the thoughts. It was all that a first love should be, I guess. And when it broke, it was everything a heartbreak should be… and some.
I got the best of both worlds.
Dr Nyameba 💜