I have a secret, which I would take to my grave. I am someone's first love. I am definitely someone's first love, even if he denies it. Perhaps watching too many K-Drama makes me realise, indeed I am his first love.
He was a classmate. It was a year before high school. I could still remember clearly how he looked at me during classes, especially I sat behind him. He was the first boy to hold my hand. He was the first one to steal an embrace. He would have had stolen a kiss if there was a chance. Yeah... he might had contemplated that definitely most days.
He made my heart fluttered. I made his heart fluttered for sure.
I hated the fact that I was almost ostracised because others mistook that I liked him. I had a crush on him. Hell, I even gaslighted myself into liking him. To be fair with myself, I barely responded to the cues he gave me. That was all. I saw and felt his affection towards me. Again, I responded accordingly.
And so, I ask now, who is my first love? I would like to say "me" but it feels narcissistic in some ways. I have always loved myself totally. The same reason why I am okay, even happy, to be alone. I do not need other people's attention or affection to make me feel loved. I am love itself. Who am I kidding? Love is my middle name, literally.
But the catch is, loving is my flaw. Love is the end of me, actually. I love 99.9% unconditionally, because I allow myself 0.01% expectation — to be shown affection; to be jealous; to yearn loving efforts. I guess, it is just fair, no? I know that there is no such thing as equal love. Someone always loves more than the other. That is for sure. Sadly, I always love more. Again, I am not named after love for nothing.
In times I feel like I run out of love because of my role as a mother and wife, I think about the time when I am someone's first love. It gives me comfort remembering that first flutter of my heart. Innocent and pure.
xxox sC