The post earlier today got me thinking, while my boyfriend and I have never had a fight, we have had a lot of struggles. I love him with all my heart, but lately I have realized my own flaws within this relationship and it makes it really hard to be with him sometimes.

When we do have a disagreement, we talk it out, we never fight. We're perfect for each other, I know that for a fact, and no one will ever make me as happy as he does, but sometimes I need a change. I think my character flaw is that I need something new at all times. I'm so bored. I need to be kept on my toes, I get depressed when I'm not doing anything new. It explains my desire to run away all the time, to change my major, to mess with new art projects.

Sometimes it makes me want to cheat. I never ever EVER would, I'm not that kind of person. But I daydream and wonder what it would be like to get those butterflies again.

I was prompted a few days ago to write this. It's a summary of my first love, the one you never get over. It's based on a recent event, and while the situation is fictional, the story is not. It's incomplete, but it's my heart expressing it's dramatic desire to try something else. But in the end, I always come back to my boyfriend, my future husband, and how I know I couldn't love anyone else but him for the rest of my life.

*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*

There is a saying she once heard from a mutual friend of theirs, “You never get over your first.” How true¸ she thought.

She was thinking of Geoff more often than usual. It wasn’t abnormal to think of him casually, but today she missed him. Now, he knew that too, because she called him. His number was in her phone for two years before she intentionally called him.

Winter was beginning, and winter was ending last time they were together. They met in high school, as first loves often do. Their common interest in theatre and improv brought them to meet, and he drew her in immediately. He was tall, wore black rimmed glasses and passionately enjoyed ska music. He was a member of the water polo team, which made him lean and muscular. She had such fortune to see him one day during play rehearsal wearing only a towel, dripping wet, rushing to his scene while the water polo team took a break from practice. They were alone in the hall briefly and he disappeared backstage. She smiled to herself and looked to the ground, embarrassed and intrigued.

Of course he was taken, all desireable men are. One of her best friends, Alicia, was lucky enough to have stolen him in during the fall musical. He was president of the drama club, and she was eager to replace him upon his graduation that spring. It was obvious she cared for him, and he cared for her, but their romance was a constant performance, always dramatic. She and her friend Holly made a game of Alicia’s dramatics, often betting on when their next breakup would occur.

Their final breakup happened right before his graduation. He felt relieved as she ended their relationship because he finally found direction. Their relationship was a purgatory and he was glad to be out of it. He graduated high school, leaving heartache behind, and traveled abroad…but not before she could steal a few conversations with him.

They emailed constantly. She checked her monitor every five minutes hoping for the bright red letters, letting her know he was still with her. It made the butterflies reappear every time, with every email.

He left for a couple of weeks and he was all she could think about. Crushes were not new to her, but a serious crush was something unknown. He sent a postcard and emailed when he could, but he was still in another country on another continent, and not with her.

Their first evening together, alone, consisted of a movie. The air held the tense feeling of attraction, and they refused to touch through the tension. She collapsed on her bed that night, anticipating their next meeting. A month after their first email, they attended a fireworks show. Under those fireworks, she felt electricty between their barely touching fingers, and she prayed silently that he would reach his hand over and hold hers.

“I really like you,” he said one evening in the park. They had spent hours talking and enjoying each others company.

She was ecstatic, but unsure of his intention. Did he like her as a friend only or did his feelings run as deep as hers?

“I like you, too,” she replied, her intention hopefully conveyed.

“You look really good today.” That said it all and they both understood.

Their summer went by quickly. Slowly deciding to hold hands one movie, finally kissing while his heart raced one afternoon, and whispering “I love yous” to each other over the phone every night. They had their deep conversations of marriage and their future, but also kept things light, always making jokes with each other. This balance kept them incandescently happy.

The end of summer arrived, and she began the school year, while he prepared for a two-year church mission. They knew eventually he would leave, but he would return in two years. It was a conversation they regularly had but also avoided whenever possible. December blew in as well as his mission call, and they couldn’t avoid it any longer. He was leaving. And while she knew in her heart they were different and would never last, she never wanted him to leave. She wanted him to stay and hold her eternally while they planned out a new future together.

That January, they exchanged promise rings, he left to serve his church on the other side of the country, and he took her heart with him.

It was unfortunate how quickly she recovered from his departure. She cried endlessly and silently for months, but with him gone she was able to see her desires clearly. She recognized the things that bothered her. He was, while romantic, dramatic. He was often putting himself down and she was attracted to confidence. He wanted a religion she couldn’t stand, and she wanted to live freely while he wanted to stay grounded. When he was there, she wanted what he wanted, but with him gone…

Dating was difficult. How easy it was to push him from her mind, even when he wrote weekly. She found herself in plently of unhealthy relationships, trying to move on from him. While none were abusive, they weren’t good for her. Jerry kept the dramatic elements Geoff used to provide, but not much else. Adam kept her on her toes, a hopeless romantic and an athlete, but never a desire to committ. She saw herself with Adam. He had the mindset she had wanted in a man, he was romantic, intelligent, strong emotionally and physically, and he came to be one of her best friends. However, he too was preparing for a church mission, and that ultimately brought any prospects of a relationship to an end.

A year after Geoff left, she wrote him a letter. A selfish letter. An incomplete letter. A last letter. Remorse was there, but she couldn’t see him or talk to him, and that made it easier. She hated herself for a while. She kept the letter tucked away for a month before gathering up the courage to send it. But she sent it, and she was supported, particularly by Adam, who wanted her to do what she wanted and do whatever made her happy (except be with him).

She stopped thinking of him. Geoff fell to a small wisp in the back of her mind, only rising when Holly would bring up their past relationships. She started a new life, and while she felt alone, the lonliness was something she needed to experience.

One day, when she couldn’t stand her lonliness anymore, she looked through the contacts in her phone. David’s number was highlighted and she decided to text him. After their first few conversations, the butterflies returned and she could feel it beginning again…

Geoff came back a few months later. Things were awkward. She avoided him at all costs. He called her occasionally and they talked, but something was missing. She found love again in David, and she couldn’t see her life any other way. They were perfect, and talking to Geoff made her realize that fact.

He made a few attempts to recover their friendship, for they had promised no matter what that they would remain friends. She was a coward and couldn’t keep her promise. He met a girl and married her. Contact went still for months.

And now, her fingers tapped on the table impatiently as she stared at her phone. She left him a voicemail and was awaiting his reply. She didn’t know why. She didn’t even want to talk to him, but something kept bringing him up in her mind. She spent the night alone in her apartment. A few glasses of wine and a few pages into a book later, she fell asleep and her phone remained still. She dreamed of memories they created.

Morning came and still she didn’t hear from him. The afternoon dragged on and still she didn’t hear from him.