My entire existence was on hold, until that cold February morning that I met you. If life is a journey, then I was just stuck in the same place from as long as I could remember. I was standing on that dead end cliff. I was as close to the edge as my fearful heart would allow. I stole a peek into what lies beyond the safety of the cliff, in its depth, but my curiosity was met with dense clouds- or was it fog? I never saw an end to the fall. I felt scared and lonely and restless, and I was tired of feeling so. But then I didn’t have the courage to take that risk. I didn’t have the courage to just jump into it believing that I could fly. I saw this glorious sky above me and just the sight of it promised the liberation and freedom that my little heart can’t even fathom. But even it couldn’t allure my senses into flying. My naïve heart wanted to swim through the floating clouds, but my mind was too content with the safety that the cliff harbored. I had been waiting on that cliff for too long. But then, you came.

When you came, I thought you had given me wings for it felt like I was flying. I was liberated. I was flying beyond cloud nine. I felt loved. I let go of all that was me. I let myself flow out of me and into you. I let go of my beliefs as I put my faith in you. I let my dreams live and the desires fly. I whispered promises and believed in your lies. I felt like a woman well cherished and respected. I felt alive. I felt safe. I felt strong. One moment I was there with my feet buried in that closing cliff and the second moment, I was in the air, I felt the wind dance with my hair and I felt the cool wind hit against my face. I was finally flying!

After we kissed and I couldn’t feel my swollen lips, I ran my tongue on my bottom lips and I tasted you there. And guess what? That didn’t feel gross at all, like it does on television or in my head. I instead closed my eyes and let the taste of you soak into my tongue to finally seep into my memories and stay here forever.

When my little fingers slipped between your long fingers and they finally intertwined with each other. It felt like something from me had flown into you and something from you was passed on to my heart; because I felt lighter and I felt different. My heart felt charged and electric and alive. I felt complete and whole. Your touch was like that prince’s kiss that brought the sleeping beauty back from slumber . You awakened each fibre of my being. Your touch was my resurrection. It’s funny how I didn’t even know that I was dead.

I remember staring at you with wide eyes full of dreams and hope, with that casual smile that always did find a way to my face with just the mentioning of your name. I remember blushing under your gaze and worshiping every word that fell out of your mouth. I was simply blindly and helplessly in love with you. So much so, that I couldn’t even see that maybe you didn’t feel the same way for me.

That afternoon in your room, I lifted more than my shirt, I lifted that veil that hid the most vulnerable part of my being. I thought you’ll handle it just as delicately as you were touching me. I had spread more than just my virgin legs, I had spread that thick wall around my heart into thin- no wait- thinnest possible sheet. So that all you have to do is whisper my name and it would come crumbling down. I gave you more than my body, I gave you my soul.

I was like that empty notebook that had waited nineteen years for someone to come and write something beautiful, so that every eye would want to behold those words that encloses an enticing tale. And every other page of some other book would be jealous for they didn’t have the honour of being dressed up by those beautiful words. Yes, I was that blank and fresh notebook, too desperate to have a story to tell. And then you came and wrote our tale. You were my first. Everyone now would just have to scribble something on the margin or over-write on your words. I can’t get beautiful now, I will only get messier.

When I met you I thought you had given me wings for it felt like I was flying, but then I realised you had just pushed me off that lonely cliff and all the while I was just falling-not flying. And till that last moment that I hit the ground and shattered into zillion pieces, I was blind enough to rejoice. I thought I was reaching for the sky, but I was just falling to kiss the ground. I wasn’t swing through the clouds above, I was just drowning in the clouds below.

So yes, my first love wasn’t the fairy tale I thought it would be. It didn’t end in a “happily ever after” or “I’d always love you” or “I’m glad you happen”. He was not the prince charming who saved me but he was that cruel witch, who made me so weak that I finally realised my strength. My first love was not a walk to remember. It was a free fall, a journey to the ground!