You were the first.
And no, not love. Maybe I don't even know what love is.
You were my first real crush.
The first boy that walked into the room that I thought would be good for me.
The first boy I fell for that wasn't just because of looks.
The first boy I wrote countless diary entries about because I couldn't get
you off my mind.
The first boy I gave longing glances to for years on end just hoping that maybe you'd look at me that way too.
The first boy that made me jealous when other girls were near you.
The first boy that I didn't have the courage to just make conversation with.
The first boy that I had the chance to call boyfriend.
The first boy who asked me out on a date.
The first boy I fought with my parents for just so I could have their approval.
The first boy that sat beside me at lunch because you wanted to be close to me.
The first boy that gave me flowers at my doorstep because it was my birthday.
The first boy that called me beautiful.
The first boy that hurt me because distance was never your strong suit.
The first boy I had to let go because I couldn't take the pain anymore.
The first boy that I still can't stop thinking about.
The first boy that I will never forget.
You were the first.
But I can't say you were the last.
YOU ARE READING
The First
Short Story"I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say." ~Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca You were the first one. And no matter how hard I try, I can never forget.
