I remember the first time I saw him. I was in his apartment. I was somewhat dating his roommate, and it was my first time at his place. I was sitting on the couch, when he came from behind me. “My girlfriend gets me flowers, and all I have a is a beer bottle to put it in” he joked. He had thick black kinky hair, sharp facial features, scrawny. I instantly fell for his loud objectionable laugh. It's a funky phenomenon, isn't it? Love at first sight. But I felt it. I felt it with him. He was wearing a Cosby like sweater, and baggy jeans. It was the year 1999, and we were dumb but didn't know it. I was 16. He was 24. I had met his friend through work. I was a caterer through a company in town. We mostly did low budget weddings. The food was simple - baked chicken, roast beef, sometimes fish. I was lucky enough to work with a few good friends. We would spend our breaks, flirting with the kitchen crew, and smoking cigarettes in the back of the box truck. We would hike up our skirts in hopes to gain some under the table tips from drunk old party goers. We would sometimes sneak a glass of champagne. The guy I was dating at the time, worked in the kitchen. We only dated very briefly and the only date I remember was a trip to the movies, and to Wendys for a frosty, which was my request - I was a cheap date. He truly was a very nice guy. A nice guy who was much older than me, a little rough around the edges, and had a child and an ex wife. Our relationship - or lack there of - quickly fizzled out. Which was fine by me, because remember- I was in madly love with his roommate. Luckily, even though things didn't work out with us, I was able to keep in touch with his roommate via mutual friends. And come to find out, he felt the same about me as I did him, and maybe even more. We spent hours chatting online, through chat messaging. He was all I ever thought about, day in and day out. He convinced me that no one on this planet could love me more than he did. I believed it to be true, because at that time - it absolutely was. But remember, I was only 16. He was 8 years older than me. As much as I wanted him, as much as I craved him - I was too practical. What would my parents say? What would my friends say? No one would would imagine that a 24 year old could genuinely love a 16 year old. So, years went by and I continued to keep myself away. I didn't let myself do what I wanted - I didn't let him do what he wanted. We dated other people. We maybe even loved other people. But we always came back to each other. Years later, I found myself in college. I had a rough night - had too much to drink. I was in the city - he was home, about 30 min away. I called him, I told him to come get me - that I needed him. He said, “listen, you're drunk. You don't know what you are saying. Go home, call me when you get there” I didn't let him hang up. I convinced him to come get me. And he did. He picked me up and drove me to his place. Everything was foggy. I had drank too much - but I knew exactly what I was doing, and I knew exactly where I was. We got back to his place, and I crawled into his bed. He got in next to me, laying down by my side. I could smell him. I wanted to feel him. I loved this man with all my heart - with all my everything. I wanted to show him how much I treasured him, and treasured all our years together. We had never been together like this. And then we made love. We didn't have sex, we didn't fuck, no - we made love. We melted into each other. I told him I loved him over and over, and he told me the same. I had never felt that way before, and I haven't since. Ours is a story that never turned into a story. A relationship never fully realized, always from a distance. But it was ours. He was my secret - a special treasure I wanted to keep to myself. He was all mine. He was sacred to me. Unfortunately by the time I was smart enough to realize this, he had moved on. And though I do not blame him now - I did then. Many years of pursuing a love that wont take the chance proved exhausting. There were times in those first few years, that I would think of him, and my chest would get so heavy, and the tears would swell up. I would find myself feeling like I had lost something that would never be found again. Those ugly words, “the one that got away” would ring in my head. But life moves on, and I have as well. I no longer hear a song and think of him. I am no longer swimming in regret, there are no more what ifs. But I will always hold a place in my heart, body and soul for him, and I hope he is doing the same for me.

Dear first love....  I don't even know where to begin. So, I will start with this. You hurt me. There is so much confusion and hate inside of my heart, that used to be filled with unconditional love and trust. The heart that would trust someone just because they asked me to. Growing up I was taught that if someone loved you, they would show you and tell you. I believed that, with all of my heart. But, when we were little kids, we believed that people waited until they were 21 to drink, and waited until marriage to have sex. Turns out those things aren't true. Just like I found out your words weren't either.     You have made me a better person. Although I sat in agony for days, drowning in my own tears and wallowing around, you've taught me a lot. You taught me that I shouldn't care what others think of me. You've broken down walls that I never let anyone even get close enough to climb and look over. I opened up to trying new things, and you created a more adventurous side of me, with my anxiety driven self. You taught me to love myself.. because one day, you wouldn't want to love me anymore.        You also taught me that only a man could handle my strength, independence, loyalty & commitment, and that a boy can't.       Dear first love, as I lie in bed at night and look at our pictures and read our old texts through a blurred lens, I wipe my eyes, and remind myself of a few things. You no longer have power over me. You no longer choose my emotions. I'm no longer allowing you or this heartbreak to have the power to make me cry, ache, and get angry. Because if you were a man, you would have stayed. You would have done anything and everything to keep me.               but you didn't. Perhaps, I wanted to fix you. When it wasn't my place to, and maybe that's why I wanted to keep you so badly. Maybe i thought I didn't do my job.  Dear first love, I've said all that I need to say. Except for this. Love her. Love this girl who comes into your life fearlessly. Don't play those games with her head and heart like I know you already are. She probably hates me, although, she should probably thank me instead. Remember to always consider her feelings. Never tell her that they are wrong, because that will break her. Trust me. Don't get angry when she asks if you still like her, because reassurance is nice. Remember that when you are in a relationship, she is the only girl that you should want. I pray that this girl gets the loyalty that I didn't always receive.  I hope that you can show her the grace and patience that I showed you. Because after all you have taught me, you've learned quite a few things from myself.  Maybe this is why we were together, right? Maybe I was the girl who was supposed to teach you how to love a human being more than anything you could imagine.  So, Dear first love, thank you. For all the good and the bad. You've made me stronger than I was. I hope that I did the same for you. But, don't forget me. I was a big part of your life once.                             Sincerely,                  “The one you still love”

Do you remember your first love? Were you filled with butterflies in your stomach? Did you blush around them, or stammer when trying to speak to them? Did you dream of a life with them, getting married and having children together? Many of us often remember our first lovers or crushes. Some may regret being with them, some miss that experience with them, and some never got to be with them. Now that last part might not seem important. However, consider this: How many times has it happened? Most of you might say, "Well, only a few times. I didn't have that many crushes growing up." That's perfectly normal. Some people fall easier than others.Yet, can you imagine what it must be like if you had so many crushes that you can barely remember them all? About 110. I have had 110 crushes, some of them on the same person multiple times. That's just a quick estimate. It might have been more, maybe slightly less, but can you guess how many of them liked me back? Only about 15--despite dating 16 people, one had fallen for me but I only wished to give them a chance because of our beloved friendship--had fallen for me as well. Do you know how many were loyal to me until the very end, and vice versa? Only three. Tony: boy #1. Cause of breakup? Died tragically in a hospital at 3 in the morning during late August two weeks after we started dating. He was shot attempting to save a man being robbed, received surgery, and his body rejected the transplant causing him to die. I was only around 11 or 12 at the time. Bryan: boy #2. Cause of breakup? We slowly drifted apart after nearly a year of being together. I don't know what went wrong, but we just stopped talking. We mutually agreed it was for the best if we saw other people. Finally, boy #3: Dani. My current partner. We had dated once before, back in my freshman year and his sophomore year. It was less than ideal and I left after almost a month. We continued to be friends after that. Then, late into my sophomore year after a traumatic event, something had sparked again. I'm not sure how or why, nor do I know now, but in early spring I started to develop feelings for him again. I had held it off for a good few months believing it was just a fluke. I told myself, "There's no way. He's just being nice, that's all. It'll go away eventually like it always does." Yet, the feelings never left. They grew and grew until I started to see signs that I had been trapped with possibly unrequited love for him. I remember how rumors began to spread, and he had admitted to them, that he had his eyes on a particular girl in our friend group. Shamefully I admit that I was outraged by this. It had happened so many times before, and I was a fool to continue to love those people for prolonged periods of time. Like my childhood friend, and a girl we both knew from another school on the campus grounds. I didn't want to be hurt again. So I continued to push those feelings away. They didn't stop. They pushed back, and I was forced to feel this way for so long. Then I had made a decision: sink or swim. He either loved me back or he didn't. I had yet taken another unsure dive into an unfamiliar lake in which I had drowned in many times before. I wrote him a small note at first, telling him my feelings in French. He returned to me and asked me why. I could not give a proper response. We left it off at that. A day or so later I gave him a longer note explaining in full detail what I meant by those small words. He took it, read it, and said not a word to me afterwards. I had believed myself to be rejected, and like many times before I was heartbroken. "What else did you expect?" I told myself that evening. "Of course he doesn't want you back, idiot! Why even bother?" I had prepared myself to be content with the loneliness I felt that day. That was why I was taken by surprise when he acted unusual the very next day. It's hard for me to recall everything that day as I write this, but I do remember one thing: that kiss we shared spoke more to me than words can ever manage. Now we are content and happy with one another, lasting a total of about 6 months, but that fear I felt back then still lingers in my mind. The fear of now losing him like the others. The fear that something will come between us, something neither of us can control or stop, and I'll be alone again. My mind works strangely in these situations. While I am outwardly happy with my life now on the exterior, my mind races with endless possibilities all ending with me being left forgotten and abandoned. I suppose that is my reason for not wanting to fall. All the failures pile up until it's too much for me to bear any longer, and they begin to haunt me day in and day out. My only hope is that this time is different, and I can finally share my love with someone properly again.