"The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end."
- Benjamin Disraeli
The whole thing about first loves is the fact that they only come around once, right? In movies and TV shows and books, those who've felt the rush of a first love - and are usually happily married - always look back with tenderness and often longing for their first love, telling their children that, 'Your first is so special..." And we're supposed to believe that they weren't heartbroken when it ended, that they don't, even a little bit, wish they could know how it would have gone.
And then there's the first love stories that are rife with sorrow and regret, like the song 'Back to December' by Taylor Swift or 'The One that got Away' by Katy Perry. 'These days I haven't been sleeping,' sighs Taylor, 'staying up playing back myself leaving..' So much sadness, so much hurt - and yet, 'It's the most beautiful feeling?'
I'm all for pain making us stronger, and hardship teaching us maturity - but using love to have some sort of legendary - and apparently, mandatory - teenage experience? Is that really what God intended?
I don't mean to be preachy. It isn't like I haven't made mistakes in relationships, in fact, I'm not sure that you can have a real relationship without making a myriad of mistakes, I'm only trying to see clearly through this murky swamp they call 'life.' I suppose most adults - and especially teenagers - would be shocked to hear that I am a fairly normal 17 year old female and yet would not profess to have been in love at any time in my life. (Because Jim Halpert doesn't officially count, right?) Honestly, from the time that I fully realized that having a first love almost always means having multiple 'loves,' I had resolved not to have this happen to me. 'Why would anyone intentionally go into something knowing it could end?' I thought.
'But that's the thing, younger, more black-and-white Sophie,' I have to tell myself, 'People don't fall in love thinking it will end.' With love, you have to make a choice - to trust, to climb to new places never explored, to care for someone other than themselves.
What started this whole train of thought, you ask? I had another one of those nebulous, 'not-just-friends-not-quite-in-a-relationship' experiences, and it ended. Not terribly, but not wonderfully, either. There were faults on both sides - for instance, I've realized I need to be much more guarded with my regard until I know some one's real character - but it's still a sadness. I know I'm hurt, much more than I would have expected. Today he told me he no longer wanted a relationship with me, other than platonic friendship. Even though I agree, it still stung to hear it from him. I know it may be crazy, but I have so much trouble feeling that I don't inspire the kind of devotion that lasts, at least not romantically. It makes me question, "Aren't I pretty enough?" "Am I still worth caring for?" "Is anyone ever going to fall in love with me?"
And I guess the most important thing to know right now, is that I'm not ready. I don't want love when I'm 17. Logic, statistics, and common sense tell me that if I want to keep my heart intact, it's wise to keep it locked away. You may think I'm just afraid, that I would gain so much if I just let myself believe in love, and you could be right. But for now, I'm content to leave my 'Perfectly Good Heart' in one piece.
P.S. Have you had a first love? What was it like? Are you still with them, or did they break your heart? Let me know in the comments below.
