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Remi
There are days the pain is too sharp, I can hardly breathe, and there are days when all I remember are the happy times – the times he said he loved me; the times he said I was funny. Eccentric. Sometimes cute. But never beautiful. No, he never, ever said I was beautiful. But he did say I had a brilliant mind, and that I was sure to go places. He wore a chain – a thin, gold chain around his sturdy neck, and he had a gold stud to his left ear. If you had the patience to wait for him to take off the dark sunglasses he wore on both sunny and not-so sunny days, you’d find brown eyes that held secrets. He was tall, too. Tall, brawny, dark, handsome – all of those adjectives you’d find in a romance book for a hero. I remember him laughing; it was always such an unusual chortle…almost like he was chuckling to himself, secretively. I remember him holding me one warm evening and looking straight into my eyes. The world was perfect that night. Everything stopped, including my heart. I was lost… lost to the awareness of him; lost to the awareness of my deep feelings for him. Lost to an ocean from which I knew I would never find my way out.
Yes, all those things, I remember about my first love.
Tosan
Seven years I’ve waited for my first love, hoping he’ll come back…wishing he’ll tell me he loves me and that he’s made mistake about me. About us. But he’s married a woman that is conventionally woman – petite; light, even toned skin; with an accent that screams intelligence in its foreignness. Even now, I still do not know what I ever did to him that would make him walk away. One moment, he said he loved me. The next, he is married. One moment he said he loved me, the next… he says he wasn’t planning to fall in love with someone like me – too dark, too tall, too skinny girl with too wide lips. One moment he said he loved me, and the next, it almost feels like he can hardly bear to look at me. And now, many years later, and finally, physically beautifully in all of the right places, the pain of his rejection remains a gaping wound screaming for help; for healing. It screams for attention from anywhere, and anyone willing to listen.
Yes, all those things I remember about my first love.
Rola
First love? Ha! Let me tell you about my first love. He had kind, warm eyes that caressed you long enough to make you feel you were the most special woman in the world. Yet, he chose his parents over me. I wasn’t exactly what his folks would have liked for him to have, so he did some choosing and, well, it hurt. Very much. I needed repair, so I did a little walking of my own, searching for the filling that would stop my emptiness. It’s a walk that seems to have no end in sight. I’ve become a heartbreaker in my quest for finding love. I take your love, and never give back. I make you believe I love you, then, just when emotions are running high with sweetness and the spirit of giving, I walk away. I walk, and leave you hanging, confused, hurt, and alone. I walk on, in this journey called life, searching, constantly searching for the approval of the first love that wouldn’t stay.
Yes, all those things I remember about my first love.
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Lara Daniels 
Hmmmm