First Love

This time of year always makes me think of the first boy I ever really loved. Let's call him Gerard. Our birthdays are very close together, plus there is Valentine's Day and it somehow seems to be "our" season or somthing. Can you really be in love when you are 17? I have to say yes. Even after all these years, I can believe that that was genuine love. There is nothing like first love...we taught each other things and were more open than people tend to be as they grow up. And even though it ended it a typical sloppy, dramatic teenage way I never held it against either one of us...after all, we were still learning. After we broke up, we lost contact for many years. I know that for my part, I thought of him fondly. First love takes on a very bittersweet glow as the years pass. About seven years ago or so, we found each other again on classmates.com and began writing back and forth. We were even sort of able to clean up the messy ends and renew all of the completely positive feelings that we'd had for one another. Since that time, we have stayed in touch through email. We've even gotten together in person a couple of times, but we live a couple of hours apart, we each have children, he fairly recently got married, so it is all about friendship now. Something about my relationship with Gerard gives me hope, though. Even though my longest, most permanent seeming relationship has failed (my marriage), I think of Gerard and the way it felt to love someone before I had ever really been hurt or disappointed and I feel renewed. I know that love could never be quite like that again, as by now we all have our baggage...but I also know that on some level that purity and depth exists. So Gerard gave me the gift of a wonderful first love and he also gives me the gift of believing that there is still love out there in the world for me, for him, for anyone who really wants it.