30 day and change: Day 19

DAY NINETEEN: Do you remember your first love? Describe them.

Word Count: 452

Do I remember my first love? I feel like it wasn’t that long ago, making it a bit hard to forget. I might have experienced love during high school, maybe even in middle school, where the hormones can be all over the place. But if I were to really take account of the first love I’ve experienced, I would be drawn back to my first love in undergrad.

“Him” as we’ll call him, and continue to refer to him throughout this piece of writing….

Describing him is easy. He was tall, had brown skin, and had a heavy presence in the church at all times. You see, my first love spent most of his time in the closet and dragged me in with him. Restrained by the love of Christ and the judgments of his people, “Him” was robbed of experiencing the love he wanted to give and also receive. But love makes us do funny things, right?

My first love loved me, I think… but not enough to make our love the declaration we shared publicly. So, did he even love me?

“Him” was witty and silly and fashionable in his own right, with matching designer duffle bags that coordinated effortlessly with his shoes, outfit, and sometimes underwear. It was a bit corny and a little too “churchy,” but I grew to love it anyway.

Considerate when he wanted to be. One of my first true moments was “him” bringing meds and soup to my dorm room after being sick. He had overheard me talking to another classmate and, after class, bought me things to make me feel better. Still understanding my own sexuality, I shied away and didn’t give him any play for a few weeks. Only to realize my feelings weren’t just confusion but interest. He was the first person in my adult life to see me for me, queer, nervous, and open to new experiences, despite their harm to me later down the line. Behind a closed door, he treated me so sweetly but ignored me in the daylight. He was a liar, juggling a girlfriend with hopes of being a pastor’s wife where they’d live happily ever after. Did I mention he was also an ordained minister? His only constant lifeline to me; conversations exchanged via SMS messages in an Android phone.

He was complicit, knowing that his girlfriend would pierce my heart and confidence with merely her eyes as she encountered me across our small 1200-student campus. He was insecure, afraid of me exploring myself and my own sexuality at the cost of losing us. A loser in hindsight, but damaged and in need of support, and more than I could offer or was willing to.