Such a platitude theme, is not it? You see everyone writing poems and snippets and stories and novels on their first love. Some are uncompounded, ending with a ‘happily ever after’ and some extravagant, ending on a note that forces the person to sit and jot down all those unsaid emotions that he craved to utter.
That first realization of the moon seeming dull compared to her warmth and beauty or the stars losing their twinkle to the sparks of his eyes, can never pass into oblivion. That first feel of butterflies doing salsa in your tummy, when your mundane brown iris meet his midnight black ones, or that rapid fluttering of your heart, threatening to burst out of your chest when he fortuitously brushes his hand against yours, or stealing glances in the middle of reading those over-rated lines in Romeo & Juliet, would hardly fail to stop your breath for a second, even after you get wrinkles on your skin. You are in a constant state of delirium, hallucinating in the middle of a shower until you realize that the water has run out or day-dreaming in the middle of having to read the causes of rise of Hitler until your mother’s voice brings you out of the trance and you panic on having wasted a full thirty minutes, staring at the wall. Those are the first stounds when you catch your lips curling, out of nowhere and looking around to check if anyone had seen you or if you had made a fool out of yourself.
And then, life shows you it’s ugly and dark alley and you realize what a nuisance teen you have been all this while, chasing after a daydream, searching for the ray of light in the labyrinth. You vow never to let yourself be that naive ever again. That innocence of falling deep into the tide and wanting to go on further, evades and your eyes are more clear, ready to look into the sky devoid of the dark clouds, devoid of the mist, ready to create a bunch of pragmatic dreams.
But the sad part? You never really stop loving them. Those eyes never really leave your memory, or that one smile never fades away. You just learn to replace it, in the hard and more matured way.
And when alone, with nobody to hear you out, you wonder what if your first love had been the only one in your life? What would you do if they return? And you spend a while, just a while pondering over the possibility. But again, dreams don’t last forever. Do they?