When I am asked about my first love, I am usually perplexed, because I have loved plenty of times, and I have always felt virgin in some aspects. So the first guy I ever fell in love with at the age of five is different from the one I will call my twin flame, and he is different from the one I stalked in my twenties, different from my first, tangible relationship…different from the one I have given to in every possible way and in some ways impossible…I could go on. Thus every man I have loved is The One from some perspective and deserves to be called The First Love.
But there is this one person in your lifetime who taught you what love is, even without knowing about it. As the marketing cliché goes: the secret sauce of my love adventures has always been and will always be my high-school flame, who is also my twin flame, and I knew it from the first time he entered my horizons.
That was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. And when my eyes locked with his at this moment, I knew I was doomed. He was pure shine and boyish glory. From this pause, my heart knew he was going to give me the sweetest agony of love, the dreaded venom of jealousy and I will have to thank him for all the joy and pain in the days to come… And I knew my soul is always going to celebrate his soul, no matter what parts us and this true marriage occurred in the first seconds of our first acquaintance and with such power that neither of us could deny it…
Though I was ravished with his physical beauty, I was most attracted to his soul, or it can be better expressed with I was somehow “magically linked” to his soul. So I went about the girls from his class–and asked for his number. Later, the same afternoon while staying with my bestie, I called him on the phone for the first time. Joy to the world–for we were actually delirious when we first spoke with each other. His voice only confirmed my guesses that he attracts me in a deeper way than anyone would, and I can claim this 25 years after the event. I will have to look in Pinterest for suitable words to describe his voice and actually there aren’t such words but “husky” which will not do justice to his voice, which was virile, magnetic, exciting, and very sexy. And his eyes, the shade of coffee espresso, and with all the shine of a dreaming angel, could push and pull me around him in space. With every word, with every look, he commanded my heart. We had invented a secret language of love, based practically on everyday greetings, in which a mere “Hello!” could make your day and a contemptuous “Hi” could mean “I am jealous…” But mostly we spoke to each other with eyes, and you won’t believe the shit that was happening into my belly while he was looking at me. He visited my dreams on a regular basis. In one of them, we traveled on a yacht and he took me to show me the Aurora Borealis and I saw that as a rainbow of colors and remembered it forever.
To me, this man was the archetype of love, the soul closest to mine. I believed with all my female powers that something magical was going on between us, something which will never cease…a fairy tale…in which I am the Fairy Queen, and he is the Fairy King, and we play with lots of pollen and sparks in our eternally lovemaking and merrymaking kingdom.
I never had the power and the courage to claim him, though I claimed him in my dreams every single day. Many things happened to assure me that we were destined for each other by the stars. I went to a concert where there were 9000 people and I hoped I would see him around – and guess what – I did. I wrote two notebooks with hot and heavy fantasies about him. He is now not among the quick, but he continues inhabiting my dreams, and my heart. I have not yet said goodbye to him. He is the one who taught me love, who gave in to me generously, without ever touching me. Sometimes, when I sleep at night, I feel him standing next to me caressing my hair on the pillow. In my dreams he whispers he loves my hair, though I have never liked it…and when Beethoven wrote “My angel, my all, my second self,” he was referring to such a passion.
I love how you get right down to your soul, and thereby, the reader’s soul, with this. You are certainly not afraid to feel deeply. I see that you have a very generous spirit, treasuring each love you’ve had, rather than lingering on the pain of parting. Bravo!
I really liked how you defined ‘first love’ I haven’t thought about it that way but I agree with your conclusion. I really enjoyed reading this as your words painted a vivid picture and did not rely on the physical aspect to describe your first love. Awesome!