Day 45 -David F

David was my first love. It's hard for me to rationalize my feelings for him. When I list attributes I liked about him, a large majority of guys could easily take his place. He was sweet, cute, funny, and respectful, but he was irreplaceable too.

I loved David, because when he looked in my eyes, I felt like we were looking directly into each other's hearts and it became difficult to breathe. I loved David because every time he held my hand, it tingled up my arm, down my spine and settled in the pit of my stomach. I loved David because anytime we kissed, the world melted away and time stood still. I know it sounds like a cliche movie, and my only defense is that movies are written that way for a reason.

I didn't know David until we were sitting across from each other on the band's tour bus in New York City. I feel like from the very moment we shared hello's we were inseparable. We walked through the Met together, he first held my hand while we were standing around Strawberry Fields in Central Park, he first kissed me on the ferry ride to Liberty Island, he first fed me in China Town, we sat next to each other at Les Miserables and on the flight home. It's a wonderful list for a movie montage.

He broke up with me a week after we got back to Houston, because he thought we were moving too fast. The next day, he called me to say he changed his mind. Not long after, he graduated and I went to all the graduation parties with him. We celebrated July Fourth early with a picnic, fireworks, a blanket and the stars in the park. (The mosquitoes were swarming too, inflicting bites which would become a long-running inside joke). The next day David flew to Ireland for nearly two months. It was dreadful, but we wrote to each other most everyday. We even kept odd hours to be able to IM. Sometime in late July, he IMed me to make sure I was by my phone. I answered before the first ring could sound. He only had a minute, but he couldn't wait to tell me anymore: He loved me! I couldn't believe it. I was giddy with joy and overflowing with excitement to return the sentiment.

By August, when I went to the airport with his family to pick him up, I was full thoughts and love for David. He was only home one week before he went to college in a town eight hours away, but we were committed to each other. He didn't come home often, so when he did it was amazing. The day after I turned 16 that December, I got a job where he worked so that we could spend the upcoming summer together. A couple weeks later, he sent me a note: "It's too hard" it began.

He broke up with me in the mail. I was devastated. I was distraught. I was destroyed.

I heard he had started dating someone in college and the timeline was a little hazy as far as any overlapping was concerned. My spring semester passed with depression, anger, bitterness and trying to get over him by dating someone else. That summer, I got my original wish: we were working together. I tricked myself into believing I could be his friend, but a part of me was still too in love. We flirted enough that our coworkers asked me if we were dating. I'd explained our history and they convinced me that he wanted me back. That final glimmer of hope fizzled out after several different near misses. The last nail in the coffin was driven in by a good date with a new guy with the beginnings of all the tingles and moments of suspended time.

David taught me nearly the entire spectrum of love. I'll never forget him.