He was the first boy who ever made butterflies flutter in your stomach; the first boy who made your cheeks burn red, to make your voice shake, to make your heart flutter.
He was the first boy to break your heart. But it wasn't his fault, it was yours because you should have told him how you felt, you should have said something, anything, to make him see that you were in love with him, because that's what it was you felt for him, love. You were sure of it.
He was the first boy you kissed. There was yelling and screaming and you just couldn't take it anymore, he had to know how he made you feel so you rushed across the room towards him, took his face between your hands like you'd seen in movies and read in books and placed your lips on his. It wasn't what you had imagined; it wasn't what you had dreamed of. It was wet, and messy, and the circumstances that led to it were less than favorable, but when you pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glazed, and a shy smile had lit his features and you knew you wouldn't have changed this moment for anything in the world.
He was the first boy to ask you on a date. A few weeks after "the kiss", he pulls you aside and through his stutters you're able to make out the fact that he wants to take you out on a date. Your stomach flips and you quickly say yes. He smiles and kisses you.
He was the first boy to tell you that he loved you. You're sitting side by side in an open field near your house that you had to sneak out of to meet him. The breeze is ruffling your hair, the sweet smell of summer fills your nostrils, the insects buzz around you, and then he looks at you as your stare at the inky night sky dotted with stars and tells you. Blood rushes to your ears and you turn to him. You'd been silently saying that you loved him after every conversation you'd ended on the phone, after every prayer you'd said, after every entry in your diary, and now he was telling you that he loved you. You tell him you love him too and his grin his so wide that the sight of it fills you up and you know you'll never forget this moment.
He was the first boy you have sex with. Its senior year and you find yourself in his bedroom. It's not the first time you've been here. It's not even the third or fourth. You've been here hundreds of times before, but tonight is different. His parents are not home, and they won't be for hours. He's looking at you in a way that makes your blood rush throughout your body making it feel like its a hundred degrees in the room. You begin to kiss and touch each other in ways you'd done before, but not with the promise of what tonight is to bring. Soon you're both under his covers and you're shivering because you're exposed before him like you've never been before, but he kisses you and tells you you're beautiful and you believe him. It's painful. You knew it would be, but you didn't think it would hurt this much, but you bite your tongue and let him finish because you love him and he loves you.
He's the first boy you have a pregnancy scare with. It's been a few months since that first night and you're supposed to have started your period but you don't. You call him crying and he rushes to your houses where he helps you sneak out. He takes you to the place where he first told you he loved you and he tells you everything will be okay. You make plans for the future altering everything you'd already planned out before to include this baby. He holds your hand and tells you he'll make it work. You feel better because you know he'll take care of you. But the next morning you use the bathroom and after wiping realize that all your new plans won't be necessary. You don't know whether to cry or laugh. You call him and the two of you laugh about it and decide to be more careful.
He's the first boy you move in with. It's both your second years of college. You're both making minimum wage and going to school, but you're making it somehow. Your parents, upset at first at the fact that their youngest children have leased an apartment together without giving them a heads up are angry, but can't help but help you out. Besides, it was bound to happen anyway.
He's the first boy to propose to you. You'd talked about marriage many times before, but this time is different. There is a seriousness behind his words when he tells you that you're the only girl he'd ever want to be with for the rest of his life. He turns over in bed and when he turns back he has a simple little ring with a simple little diamond. It's the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. You whisper a yes and he slips it onto your ring finger. You cry and you kiss and you make love. Your parents throw a huge party the next night in celebration of the engagement because they all knew it was going to happen. Everyone knew.
He's the first boy that makes you question yourself. It's been a few months since the engagement. No date has been set. You're lying in bed and you turn to look at your husband to be. For a second you imagine someone else in his place and then wonder why you would think such a thing. You turn over and turn off the light, banishing such thoughts. But they're not banished. Every day you think about what life would be like without him, you think about what your memories would be without him. You think about everything in your life without him and realize what an effort it takes because he's a part of you in everything you've ever done. Every little moment, every huge moment, he's been there for as long as you can remember and for once, this is not a comfort to you. You wonder who you are without him, who you could be, and the thought consumes you to the point that you cannot stand the idea of never finding out.
He's the first boy whose heart you break. You'd never dated or loved anyone else in your life. You'd never cared for anyone as much as you care for him. This is how you start your speech. You tell him a lot of things and the expression on his face tells you he doesn't understand or doesn't believe what you're saying so you take off the ring and place it on the table in between the two of you. He stares at it for a moment and then looks at you. You're stomach is sick as he begins to cry. You want to take it all back as he begs and pleads. You want to reverse this moment and instead of asking him to talk you, you just fall into his embrace and kiss him and tell him you love him. But you can't take this back, it's gone too far. You've told him you need to be on your own, need to find out who you are without him, need to do things by yourself. He's a mess, you're a mess. In the end you leave and decide to come back the next day when he's at work to pack up you're things.
He's the first ex-boyfriend you've ever had and you don't know how to feel about this. It's been months since the break up and the two of you can't seem to get it right. Neither of you have ever been in relationships before this one and the protocol is not clear to either of you. He calls you all the time, and sometimes you answer and you talk. You maintain some sort of friendship. There's no way you cannot see each other, you're lives have been intertwined for years now. His sister is your best friend, has been since you were four. His parents and yours still throw parties together. His friends are your friends and yours are his. Everything is shared and you don't know how to separate it. You contemplate asking if he'd ever consider taking you back but you stop yourself because this new found independence, though scary at first, is thrilling at the same time. You don't want to give it up.
He's the first one to move on. It's been two years since the break up. A distance has grown between you that you didn't think was possible. You've bother graduated and both have jobs. You live in the same town you've always lived in, but on separate sides now. You have new friends and so does he but there's not enough space set between the two of you yet to not know what the other has been up to. You hear from his sister that he's seeing someone new. You freeze as you're pouring yourself a drink at her wet bar and your hands are shaking. You set down the glass and turn to your best friend. Her expression is sad; you know yours must look ridiculous. You want to smile and say that you're happy for him but you can't because you're not. The thought of someone else taking the place you'd been in for so long is too painful that you leave as quickly as you can back to your place. You heave your lunch into the toilet and you cry for hours on end because you miss him, because you need him, because you were foolish to believe you needed to be on your own. The next few days are the toughest, but you get through them. You decide you can get over these feelings of regret and nostalgia. So when his sister calls you and says she's throwing a surprise party for her mother, you know you have to suck it up and attend. You tell yourself it'll be okay all the way until the day you're walking up the front steps of your would have been mother-in-law's home. It takes you ten minutes to realize it's not okay because he's there as you knew he'd be. But she's there too, holding his hand like you used to. She's whispering in his year like you once did, and she's pecking his cheek like you had. She's shorter than you are, her hair is lighter, her skin is darker, her eyes are brighter, her lips are less pouty, her whole frame is just smaller than you. She's everything you envy, not just because she's with him, but because she's everything you'd want to be. Compact. That's what she is, compact. You leave the party when he turned to her and kissed the top of her head the way you'd always wanted him to do to you but you were too tall for that to ever be possible.
He's the first one to reach out to you. You haven't seen him since the party, that was almost a two months ago, but now he's standing outside your front door and he looks nervous, and anxious. For one heart stopping moment you think that he's going to ask you back, that he wants to be with you again. You scramble to think what you're going to say when he drops the bomb. He's going to be a father. You're drowning, you can't breathe, there's no air in your lungs. You wake up and he's standing over you, worry etched all over his face. You sit up despite his protests and you remember what he just said. He wanted to be the one to tell you first, wanted you to hear it from him. You can't believe what's going on. This can't be your life. It just can't be. But it is. You look at him and you remember the boy you once loved, the boy who has given you so many firsts. He's a boy no longer, but a man, a man that's going to be a father to someone else's child and the thought is unbearable. You tell him he has to leave and he tells you he's sorry, he tells you he wishes things had gone differently between the two of you and then he says the words that drive the knife in that much more. "I still love you." You cry and force the door shut and sink to the floor. You still love him to, but it's no use. He's going to be a father, and like the good man he is, he will marry the mother to his child, he will give her a good life, and he will take care of her. He will do all the things he once promised he'd do for you.
He's the first one to get married. You knew it was coming since that day he came to your place and told you he was going to be a father. Ever since that day you were waiting for the invitation. It didn't come by mail, but rather by hand. His sister came by to drop it off and the two of you sit on your bed and look at the invitation. You have so many questions. Is she funny? Is she a good person? Does she make him happy? Does she know about the time he fell off the trampoline and broke his wrist? Does she know about the first car he ever bought? Does she know about the time he lost his wallet at the amusement park? Does she know about me? Does she know I was his first everything as he was mine? Does she know I still dream about him, think about him, miss everything about him? Does she know him like I know him? But you don't ask any of these questions because she already knows them, knows the answer to each one, and it's no every time. You don't know if you can attend the ceremony. You go back and forth on the idea and in the end decide it's too hard. How can you watch the man you've loved you're entire life get married to someone else? You. Just. Can't.
He was the first and only love of your life. It's been years since you've seen or heard from him. You kept up with how he was going for a few years through his sister but after time it became too hard so you decided to move away from the only place you'd known your entire life. After some time you "fell in love" with your current husband and settled down with him and together the two of you had three very beautiful children. You're thankful for your life, thankful for the home you live in, thankful for the children god has blessed you with, and thankful for the man that has been able to provide all this for you. You could have done a lot worse. But you know, in the back of your mind, you could have done a lot better too.