It’s my first real love…
Young love. It’s unforgettable, as it is an initiation of sorts into a world which was hidden from you before. Who was your first real love? What was the relationship like? What became of it? Reminiscing on old times sure brings back fond – and other – memories, as the readers below share.
Yolanda, 34:
As old as I am at my age, my current boyfriend is my first real love. When I think back, all the boyfriends I had in the past were trivial flings. My current boyfriend is a darling. From the looks of things, I think he is the one. Plus I’m running out of time so he’d better be the one!
Sasha Lee, 32:
It was childlike. We were young and immature. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Trust me when I say we weren’t serious. If we were to try again today, we would have to be completely different people for things to work.
Ingrid, 39:
He was a sweetheart. He was very polite; we got along well, I think. We still talk, not romantic or anything, but as friends. But in the end we grew apart. I would say he changed. We became different people. He claimed that I was getting too serious and that bothered him to the point where he was willing to break it off with me.
Tina, 37:
I was a teenager and of course back then I thought my first boyfriend was the one. That was not the case. But for the time we were together he was a complete gentleman and a sweetheart. He used to take me out and buy me chocolates and stuff. But in the end we grew apart.
George, 43:
Your first love will always be your first love. She was my childhood friend and even to this day we are still close. Because we came from the same background we could understand each other. We were so innocent and the basis of our relationship wasn’t a sexual one and so there was zero pressure. The relationships I see young people get into now are so sexual that there is hardly any time for the couple to get to know each other as people.
Tanya, 34:
It was a whirlwind romance, lots of loving, lots of sex, lots of affection. We inhaled each other. Life was just about the two of us, no one else. I felt everything I’d read about in romance novels. He’d sing to me. He’d read me poetry. Then one night he was driving really fast and crashed and died. I’ve never recovered.
