My First Love

April 17, 2014



I had a horrible dream about my first love the other night. It was awful. He died and I went to his funeral, and everyone at the funeral said how awful I was to him and would not let me in. I sat outside the church and cried and howled.

I woke up very upset thinking that something might be wrong with him, that he might have a terminal illness or had been hit by a car. I wanted to text immediately to see if he was ok. After a chat with the Husband and high school bestie, who is aware of my turbulent  past relationship, we decided the idea to text to see if he was alive was definitely psycho, seeing I have not spoken to him in  almost five years.

So, instead of texting I had a face stalk, a business website stalk and confirmed that a friend had seen him in a pub.

Alive and well. No text required.

How is it that a dream about somebody that you have not seen or spoken to for years can throw you into a sudden spin?

My wise sister said she too dreams about her first love now and then, and felt bad for it, and is glad she is not alone in this phenomena.

My first love and I had an on again off again relationship. It started when I was 17, and I think I only really let it go from my mind when I met my husband. We were on, we were off. Then we were friends. Then friends with benefits. The lines were always blurry. He was the guy I ran straight back to in between boyfriends, the go to guy I told all my problems to. Even when I moved to London with someone else, I dreamed about him every night for six months. I had this half baked idea that he would fly across the world and profess his undying love for me and we would live happily ever after (like a Justin Timberlake movie.) He never did.

Then I met my husband, and all became clear. I knew immediately he was ‘the one’. Love was simple. Love meant action. Love was not confusing. Love meant being fulfilled, not feeling full of hope for what might be. Even from the other side of the world with me in London and the Husband in Sydney I felt loved, supported and connected to someone in a way that I never had before.

Thoughts about my first love stopped, but I did hope we could be friends after 10 year of up and down.

It was clear from the first few attempts at friendship that my first love and I didn’t know how to be in each other’s lives anymore without either sleeping together or screaming at each other.

We were once the bestest of friends who could tell each other anything but by now too much shit had gone down between us.

I just couldn’t be friends with my first love anymore when my Husband entered my life.

That space that I had always reserved always for him was now full in a way that it never was before.

To my first love, thank you for all the things you taught me and all the material for the diaries I filled up writing about you.  I laughed so much the other week as I was going through old things and found the Valentines card you gave me when I was 17. It had a picture of a dog sniffing another dog’s bum. At the time, I thought it was the most romantic move on earth.

I hope that you are happy and that the space you had always reserved for me is now overfilling with love for someone else.

I hope that your love is simple and clear. And not fucked up and confusing like ours was.

And I hope that maybe, if I run into you on the street in a few years time, we can smile at each other, have a drink and be thankful for what was there, not what was lost.


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