Day 02 - Your First Love
Day 02 - Your First Love from this meme (from finding-helena).
Sometimes you know you're in love immediately and sometimes it is not obvious you've fallen in love until you're muck deep in it. Sometimes love can be slow and subtle - you like each other, you're together all of the time, things progress, and then you're there.
It was like that for my first love.
The funny thing about love is how it impacts your mood. Every morning, I woke up full of joy and energy and aching to start the day. I'd jump out of bed and make myself a tuna sandwich (lotsa cheese, lotsa mayo). And then I'd walk to the huge pile of library books, select one, and go, sandwich, soda, and book in hand, straight back to bed.
Like a lot of men, I admit that part of it was probably about going to bed together. It was the summer when I was twelve, and for me it was a water bed. The bed itself was warm and comfortable. I could relax completely. I let go with a ferocious abandon.
It was not a new relationship: my parents constantly read to me as a child, and we would even read together as a family as I got older. But before this summer, it wasn't love, it was just friendship.
But that summer, something happened. Hour after hour, day after day, I would devour Ed McBain's 87th Precinct novels, David Edding's Belgariad or Mallorean series, or Robert B. Parker's Spencer novels. Because I was young and vigorous, I even had the energy sometimes to do it three or four times in the same day. But youth is also a curse: sometimes I would get so excited, it would all go too fast and I'd just blow through a book without fully enjoying it.
Of course, the right circumstances encourage love to bloom. I had supportive parents, which was wonderful. Without them, none of it would ever have happened.
But, in the end, I think it was just about the books, where I was in my life, and chemistry that dances like magic and punches like a mule.
Sometimes you know you're in love immediately and sometimes it is not obvious you've fallen in love until you're muck deep in it. Sometimes love can be slow and subtle - you like each other, you're together all of the time, things progress, and then you're there.
It was like that for my first love.
The funny thing about love is how it impacts your mood. Every morning, I woke up full of joy and energy and aching to start the day. I'd jump out of bed and make myself a tuna sandwich (lotsa cheese, lotsa mayo). And then I'd walk to the huge pile of library books, select one, and go, sandwich, soda, and book in hand, straight back to bed.
Like a lot of men, I admit that part of it was probably about going to bed together. It was the summer when I was twelve, and for me it was a water bed. The bed itself was warm and comfortable. I could relax completely. I let go with a ferocious abandon.
It was not a new relationship: my parents constantly read to me as a child, and we would even read together as a family as I got older. But before this summer, it wasn't love, it was just friendship.
But that summer, something happened. Hour after hour, day after day, I would devour Ed McBain's 87th Precinct novels, David Edding's Belgariad or Mallorean series, or Robert B. Parker's Spencer novels. Because I was young and vigorous, I even had the energy sometimes to do it three or four times in the same day. But youth is also a curse: sometimes I would get so excited, it would all go too fast and I'd just blow through a book without fully enjoying it.
Of course, the right circumstances encourage love to bloom. I had supportive parents, which was wonderful. Without them, none of it would ever have happened.
But, in the end, I think it was just about the books, where I was in my life, and chemistry that dances like magic and punches like a mule.