Day 3, still going. High five, self. Here's the list: The Writer Circle's 30 day writing challenge.
Today's prompt asks us to write about our first love and first kiss; if separate, discuss both.
My first kiss was when I was in preschool. It's probably a good thing I was a kid in the 80s and not now, because there's a decent shot I'd be hauled into the office for inappropriate behavior now. Both my parents and the parents of the other kid would be called, there would be a whole thing about it. The school might even feel compelled to institute "no touching" rules like the ones that seriously exist in schools here in town these days which forbid kids from even hugging their friends.
What the hell, world?
Anyhow, I was in preschool. There was a little boy named Tommy, one who could actually possibly be the guy that I'm married to today, on the playground. We were in one of those little tube shaped tunnels and it was weird and glorious all at the same time.
We don't need to talk about my first French kiss, which would come many, many years after that. No. No we do not.
My first love....that's a slightly loaded question. I mean, are we talking the first crush or the first time I totally fell for someone or the first dating relationship I had or the first time I actually fell in love with someone in a relationship?
My tendency to overanalyze the hell out of things is showing. Sorry.
I'm going to assume that I'm supposed to write about the last of those options, the one where I fell in love with someone who fell in love with me in an actual mutual relationship that wasn't based on fantasy.
I'm picking that one because writing about the other options is far less appealing.
My first love is the one that I hope will be my last.
We've been together since high school, though there is always that possibility that we did indeed attend preschool together and that he was indeed the little boy on the playground that day. We'll never know for sure.
We're very different people than we were when we were 15, when we were college students or newlyweds or young parents. We are different people than we were even just a few years ago.
He was the first person who loved me for me, not for what he wanted me to do or be or think. He didn't want me to change. He didn't need me to be anyone or anything else.
He just loved me.
He still does.
And I love him.
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