romantically speaking, i feel that there's a big difference between the first person you care for and love as a result, and the first person you fall in love with and love as a result.

at seventeen, i became involved with someone for all the wrong reasons. i loved him, yes. but not in the ``i wish i could spend the rest of my life with you`` kind of way. i tried to convince myself on more than on occasion that my feelings were more than i knew. when i finally came to terms with who i was, i realized i was in the wrong relationship. i still love him, i'll always love him as a friend. it never should have been anything more, but i don't regret the experience one bit.

at nineteen, i met my bestfriend and ultimately my first love. we worked together, went to the movies together, laughed together. i loved him as a person immediately. and by the time i was twenty, i was in love with everything about him. head over heels.

the deal was sealed one night on a strangers couch; i was sitting there, leaning on him, trying to figure out one of those brainteaser toys. he laughed at me when i repeatedly made the same mistake, and i elbowed him in the gut for it, and then he play pouted and i looked at him and we could see everything in each others eyes. i kissed him gently on the cheek and we sat there in a shared silence for what must have been an hour.

in that moment neither of us knew what was next. all we knew was that we were in love, and we trusted that that would be enough.

it has been. today, i'm still in love with him. i'm lucky that he's hung around and feels the same way. :o)

any thoughts? (0)����������������