I wonder why our first loves are seen as experiments, hidden things, trials not even worth of sentiments. Our straight's counterparts first loves meanwhile are watched with dolly eyes and sweetness.
Still I remember vividly my first kiss, feeling I was crossing a border, his lips somewhat a bit dry. I remember my hand on his skin, his unique grain and the warmth emanating from his skin.
I remember feelings I couldn't explain because I didn't have the right frame, crying each time he was leaving, wondering for how many times I won't see him again, thinking it was just a strong friendship.
I remember holding to the smallest trace of him, an object left behind, a song he made me discover, the feeling of closeness staying only in my memories. The jealousy I felt when he said how close he was with someone else and how many times they had the chance to spend together.
Decades after, I understand now that this was love. Not an experiment, not a strong friendship, but my first feelings of loving someone, misunderstood because I grew up thinking a boy couldn't love another. This was not an experiment, it was so much more than this, but society didn't teach us that our loves were possible.direct link to