I have a cousin. He is about five years younger than I am, and he is in love, I hear.
First Love.
You are smiling. I am, too.
And perhaps you are thinking about the first time you fell in love. I am.
I remember the wasted evanescence of my tissue-paper love.
I remember the feeling of pure happiness, before I had memories of another love that I never let anyone see.
I remember it still.
I shake it out sometimes and drape it around my shoulders, before I let it collapse, back into its origami folds in a box that no one must ever open.
And, for a few moments, she trips daintily along the corridors of my mind , impossibly graceful, a girl-woman with flyaway hair.
First love.
You are smiling. I am, too.
I wish him luck.
First Love.
You are smiling. I am, too.
And perhaps you are thinking about the first time you fell in love. I am.
I remember the wasted evanescence of my tissue-paper love.
I remember the feeling of pure happiness, before I had memories of another love that I never let anyone see.
I remember it still.
I shake it out sometimes and drape it around my shoulders, before I let it collapse, back into its origami folds in a box that no one must ever open.
And, for a few moments, she trips daintily along the corridors of my mind , impossibly graceful, a girl-woman with flyaway hair.
First love.
You are smiling. I am, too.
I wish him luck.
10 comments:
"I shake it out sometimes and drape it around my shoulders, before I let it collapse, back into its origami folds in a box that no one must ever open"
i wish people could learn to let go. of each other... of certain memories... only when its absolutely necessary, of course.
there are somethings that are just meant to be observed... remembered... folded away
is it possible that a person has no memories of young love because she/he doesnt have any?
I so know I'm going to be quoting this to my lovesick great-grandnephew over the top of my rimless glasses, sitting in my very wealthy dead husband's beachfront property.
Always assuming, of course, that, by that time First Love's happened to me.
@purpleshunshinethings: Maybe. but Perhaps the best thing about these memories is that they are so very personal that you cant let go. And you fold them away, again and again.
@xiamaze:It is possible. I'd say that person is lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it... :)
@diviani: hehe.
And on a different note, thats one of my favourite retirement fantasies, too.. beachfront, old, maybe overseeing a greenpeace project, great-grandchildren...
Assuming, of course, that by then anything other than one-sided love has ever happened to me... :)
"in a box that no one must ever open"
yes.
@agarwaen mormegil: Maybe we'll have a whole stretch of beach, all us bloggers... :)
@Aarshi: yes... places no one must touch, in boxes no one must open...
"I remember it still.
I shake it out sometimes and drape it around my shoulders, before I let it collapse, back into its origami folds in a box that no one must ever open."
the peole we love, either belong to memory or to fantasy
but never to reality.
first love...
that was a whifF of perfume...long long back...
@rijula: Aren't we always in love with our own versions of people? I know I am.
@Agarwaen: We will need to be several billionaires rolled in one, dude... But it'll happen. After all, you're the economist, figure out a way to buy a small country, or something...
:)
This young hound's been talking a lot about love lately.
Makes me think with a hint of concern about his future.
No, I'm not waxing paternal over you, dear bird.
Just wanted to tell you that a man is free for only so long...
i think viator magnus is ryt.
and first loves are painful
to be stuffed under bottom of bed with monsters n all.
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