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  • My first one.

    Clarifying the word "one" seems pointless. We all know a love reference when we see one.

    He came into my life in sixth grade. Like many other girls, I made fun of him, jested with him, let him clean my glasses in history class (I couldn't see the board when he did, but it didn't matter because I wanted to look at him anyway), and became his wingman.

    I wonder why I decided to become his wingman, especially after I succeeded in establishing and maintaining his relationship with my best girl friend at the time... I wonder.

    However, it didn't matter and doesn't matter now.

    Also characteristic of not only myself but other girls my age, I eventually confessed my undying love for him.

    We tried it. Twice. And he broke my heart. Twice, but the second time wasn't as bad. The first time, admittedly, I can still feel and play back in my head (which probably does nothing for my current love life).

    He was my best friend for seven years.

    He's still in my life. Finishing school in a different city, but not a different state. When he's in town, I still gleam at his presence, hug him just as hard and listen to him as closely as ever before.

    I've never kissed him.

    I often wonder if I still love him.

    I don't think so.

    When you think of someone weeks after contact, does that mean you love them? If you still miss them, does that mean you love them? If you still remember your first heartbreak, can you still love him? Am I just looped in a love hell where firsts plague the following men? Lord knows I've loved many since him.

    I'll see him in a couple weeks.
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