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Your first love
Aug. 14th, 2010 05:02 pm( The list )
Most of you were around when Ava died, and read what I had to say about her then. (If not, it's all under my "smooshbaby" tag.) She's definitely the one who comes to mind when I think of my first love.
She's not the only one who could fit that label. My first serious crush was on a boy I met at a juggling festival when I was maybe eleven, and lasted perhaps a month after the festival. I never saw him again, and I never really knew him in the first place. My first kiss was also at a juggling festival (the same one, in fact) two years later, but that slipped into platonic friendship almost immediately. He just happened to be available and interested around the time when I decided I was ready to try this "making out" I'd heard so much about. Leo, don't even get me started--I was his first love, for sure, but any chance he had of being mine was gone at the first suicide threat. I had a girlfriend when I was thirteen and a boyfriend when I was fourteen, but those relationships were all about experimenting with societal norms.
Ben Riggs was a lot closer to love than any of those. That crush was never reciprocated. Perhaps it would have sizzled out like the others if we'd dated. As it was, I spent a long time frustrated, wanting to make him like me, and in the process somewhat accidentally developed a close friendship with him. He told me at one point that I was his best friend. I was surprised to discover that this meant more to me than anything physical would have, and by the time we grew apart, I'd learned more about relationships than I had from any of my official SOs thus far.
But my Abby... that was different. This isn't just post-funeral rose-colored glasses--I felt this way long before she died. She wasn't the first one I spent months mooning over, but she was the first one who also spent months mooning over me. She probably just latched onto me because she so desperately wanted to try falling in love and I was a good prospect, but I still wonder if that's just cynicism left over from what happened afterward, because during those months, we were both so certain. It was the first time in my life that I was completely willing to commit to a long-term relationship. Even with the context of the years since, and even knowing how it would have ended in wrenching heartbreak, I stand by that. If it had been right for her, it would have been right for me.
Most of you were around when Ava died, and read what I had to say about her then. (If not, it's all under my "smooshbaby" tag.) She's definitely the one who comes to mind when I think of my first love.
She's not the only one who could fit that label. My first serious crush was on a boy I met at a juggling festival when I was maybe eleven, and lasted perhaps a month after the festival. I never saw him again, and I never really knew him in the first place. My first kiss was also at a juggling festival (the same one, in fact) two years later, but that slipped into platonic friendship almost immediately. He just happened to be available and interested around the time when I decided I was ready to try this "making out" I'd heard so much about. Leo, don't even get me started--I was his first love, for sure, but any chance he had of being mine was gone at the first suicide threat. I had a girlfriend when I was thirteen and a boyfriend when I was fourteen, but those relationships were all about experimenting with societal norms.
Ben Riggs was a lot closer to love than any of those. That crush was never reciprocated. Perhaps it would have sizzled out like the others if we'd dated. As it was, I spent a long time frustrated, wanting to make him like me, and in the process somewhat accidentally developed a close friendship with him. He told me at one point that I was his best friend. I was surprised to discover that this meant more to me than anything physical would have, and by the time we grew apart, I'd learned more about relationships than I had from any of my official SOs thus far.
But my Abby... that was different. This isn't just post-funeral rose-colored glasses--I felt this way long before she died. She wasn't the first one I spent months mooning over, but she was the first one who also spent months mooning over me. She probably just latched onto me because she so desperately wanted to try falling in love and I was a good prospect, but I still wonder if that's just cynicism left over from what happened afterward, because during those months, we were both so certain. It was the first time in my life that I was completely willing to commit to a long-term relationship. Even with the context of the years since, and even knowing how it would have ended in wrenching heartbreak, I stand by that. If it had been right for her, it would have been right for me.
