I met my first love when I was nineteen years old. I’d imagine that’s around the first time most people meet their first loves if they never were able to experience a high school romance.
Before I met him, I was stuck in an ‘almost’ relationship with a guy who barely gave me any respect. He provided false hope. He manipulated me to believe that he really cared for me. Turns out, this guy ditched me for my best friend and they ended up dating for about two years.
My first love walked into my life at a messy point in time. I recently lost a guy I was infatuated with to my best friend. As an eighteen-year-old, that seemed like the worst thing to ever happen. To top it off, my relationship with my best friend was in the ruins because of it.
I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I finished my sophomore year of college and I was back home with my family. It was a warm Saturday afternoon in June. In the summer, my neighborhood would throw summer parties, where all the families on my block get together in the gazebo near the pond. I recall not wanting to attend, but my nagging mother wouldn’t let it go. I got there and I immediately wanted to leave.
After an hour of relentless conversations with adults about where I go to school and what I want to study, his eyes met mine.
He entered the gazebo with a friend of mine from high school. My first two thoughts: his eyes are so blue and why have I never seen him before? After spending five hours together that day, he got my number and we dated for the next two years.
Like most young first loves, our story eventually ended.