Think of the expression “falling in love.” To me it’s such an unsympathetic phrase, and carries an amount of danger with it. Falling is never a fun experience, it sends your heart into a flutter, you’re disorientated and at times you hope no one around you noticed. Come to think of it, falling is the perfect word to describe love, especially your first.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure the love I shared with my year eight MSN boyfriend would inspire the next great romance novel, but my first real love kind of happened by accident.
Ok let’s take it back to 2006 when Justin was bringing sexy back and thick leather belts cinched our waists, it was the eve of my 15th birthday and I had a major crush on a guy. So as any 15 year old would be, I was infatuated with the idea of having a boyfriend, drawing his name in my diary dotting his I’s with love hearts and showing off his display name which I so happened to make a starring role. My crush’s friend and my best friend were dating so we thought it’d be fun if we did too, and it turns out he only planned on committing to the Summer Holidays.
Well the term started again and passed, months turned into years and before we knew it we had hit seven years together. We grew up together and knew every single detail about each other, he could tell the difference between when I was hangry (anger due to hunger) or just bothered by something and would be able to remedy the situation and have me smiling again with either a slice of cake or a hug.
Life isn’t a fairy tale and rarely do you end up with the first person you fall in love with, and I am actually ok with this idea now.
I remember one night I asked him if we loved each other so much because we were so compatible or simply because we’d grown up with each other and were able to fill in the pieces the other was missing.
He was relaxed and calm in stressful situations, whereas me on the other hand would be bouncing off the walls.
But naturally we began to drift and ultimately found ourselves in a difficult place to come back from. Being together from such a young age pulled on the curiosity strings of our parachutes and I think based on our later conversations, one of us wanted to explore the world for themselves, alone, before taking the next step.
So what happens after you’ve fallen in love, eventually you hit the ground right? Gravity can be a bitch and when you hit the ground, and boy do you hit it hard. When you lose the ying to your yang it leaves you feeling kind of empty. I’d describe the feeling as being hijacked by teeny, tiny break up ninjas that hide in the shadows waiting to roundhouse kick you with a big fat reminder that you were almost happy and now the moment is gone.
It’s been almost a full year since I learnt to live with the Ninjas (I have to say, my brain karate has leveled up to black belt). Although I am happy with where I am in my life and have really found the silver lining out of the situation, I still cringe when certain songs on my iPhone play or I see the same model car as his cruising down the street (why he had to buy Sydney’s most popular car in the most popular colour continues to drive me crazy) and I have been ashamed to admit that I still miss him from time to time.
Sometimes I wonder how old my sister’s soul is, she may be 20, but her advice far exceeded a woman of 30 or 40. I confided in her last week the secret that he still crosses my mind from time to time, or that something will happen and all I wish for is that I could just call him up and tell him all about it. She looked me in the eyes and told me that no one ever forgets their first love.
I think I made up this idea that we’re only given one chance at finding the right person, and I managed to lose him so what if I never get another shot? This idea is toxic and I think when I stopped believing it I started to see the world and myself differently. Life isn’t a fairy tale and rarely do you end up with the first person you fall in love with, and I am actually ok with this idea now.
In life we have many firsts, our first steps, our first words, our first time riding a bike, our first love. Each milestone leaves a monumental footprint in our lives, or at least paving the way to do so. Falling in love for the first time is an experience like no other. There’s a reason why literature, songs, movies and even our whole lives revolve around finding that someone special to share your life with.
The hardest thing is to look back on the past with happiness that it happened, rather than sadness that it is no more. We try so hard to play the tough guy and pretend we’re ‘totally over him’ a day after it happened, but we’re only human and we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over the feelings we have.
Sure I hit the ground hard and still have a few cuts and bruises healing, but I now like to look at my first love like I do my first steps. Sure it was a huge stage in my life, but it was the first steps that paved the way for me to learn how to walk, and for the first time I am looking forward to running to the next stage in my life.