In everyone's life there are different experiences; one of them is the first love. I've never been lucky in love. I always predicted the end of every relationship I've been through, I expected every single word and lie I've been told and every little fake emotion I thought real. But my first love was dazzling yet still aching. Every time I go back to those memories, my eyes water and I feel like I could have done so much better.
My love story began eight years ago, when I was only sixteen. I was inexperienced and naïve; I thought that there were no heart break in this world. It was a Saturday afternoon when I first saw him. His brown caramel eyes made my heart skip a beat for I had never seen anything so breathtaking. His skin was a russet color and his hair was shady black. That first moment when we saw each other is engraved in my head and my heart. I can still hear my heart throbbing loudly in my chest as his eyes landed on me in that small room. We stared at each other as he made his way to seat in front of me, and a smile flicked on his lips, to seal that moment.
It took me a year to talk to him. His name was Connor Blanchett and I was three year younger than him. We became best friends but nothing more. My friends used to say I had a crush on him but deep down I knew his life was mine, his thoughts were mine, he was my world and he didn't even know. I remember I used to see us as a happy couple who would see the birth of our child, as tourists in beautiful places all over the world, joining different groups of cultures and laying down in some Caribbean beaches, navigating in a yacht on the coasts, living in a big house with a lawn full of pests. Everyone said that there was something between us and he only laughed, not noticing how I shatter every time he flirted with someone else, but, what really destroyed me, was the day he broke the news that he was leaving and maybe never coming back. He was leaving to Japan with his dad. All my illusions died that day and the future that I pictured with him went to the trash. All the paths that I wanted to follow to reach his heart, to be his dreamed girl, disappeared. There were not more myths about love that I believed in, all my faiths flew with him that March night. I felt I was lost in the forest, with my fists tied because I couldn't do anything to stop his destiny. He was my most precious treasure and I was losing it because it had to go away. The conclusion of my fairy love story made me receive a lot of suggests and having to share my feelings with strangers made me feel ashamed. Every night I wished I could be with him, touch his face again but I knew these were only events that would never happen.
I decided I had to change, choose to be happy without him. That June I went to visit what, two months later, became my college. I thought that a change in my life would make me forget about him but that was more difficult than I thought. For a long time I desperately searched for someone who could fill the empty place he left and that was when I met Jackson. I met him because we were studying the same major. We enjoyed each other's company and felt comfortable being with the other. We had occasional meetings under the same tree where we met the first time, but Connor never left my head or my heart. After a while I got tired of Jackson. Even though were studying the same, our tastes, hobbies and priorities were different. I graduate from college and went back to my hometown, hoping to find Connor there, but I knew that wouldn't be possible.
Time passed and I never heard from him. Because of that, my feelings for him started to slowly disappear, but there were still memories hunting me for what I once felt. About two years ago, he came on vacation. When we saw each other after a long time I felt like no time didn't pass and all those feelings that were vanishing away came back with more power, like a train with no control. The happiest night of my life was when we kissed, even though it was just for a few seconds. My heart was pounding so fast and loud that I could feel it was going to get out of my chest, my hands were sweaty and I felt I couldn't breathe anymore. The first and only time we kissed was magical, but he still had to go back to Japan.
Now, he comes on vacation a few times every year and, every time he is back, is he who looks for me, is he who begs for my lips after that one time our mouths met for a first kiss, feeling how our breaths got heavier and heavier, is his heart that breaks, for the decision I made to myself that I would not shed another tear because of him. As much as I want him vanish from my life again, so I can try to move on with my life, he won't go. Every time he's back, I fall into his arms, becoming that delicate girl that I once was.
My love for him is like the waves in the sea, it comes and leaves. His name is carved into my soul, that part of who I am now. He made me cry but he also made me laugh. He was my friend and my first love, and, as much as I want that part of my story to end, I know it's not over yet.
