First Love (one-shot)

"There was woman, beautiful and kind.

She was my first love.

Oh how my cheeks flushed and mouth failed to talk when she was around.

Flowers bloomed and honey drizzled out of her mouth whenever she spoke, and when she sang....I as though I have entered heaven.

She was the one who confessed did you know?

It was under the plum blossoms of our school, right before the sun touched the horizon. When the sky was a pallet of colors. Her dark brown hair, slightly curled, swayed in the wind. Her large, doe-like eyes were bashfully looking towards the ground. She was really the epitome of innocence, like an unblemished flower, ignorant of all evil.

I didn't answer for a whole minute, I remember my mind going completely blank. Why, I thought I was dreaming! It was one of the most beautiful moments in my life. Though I probably looked like fool that day.

Of course, I accepted. I too had a crush on her, who wouldn't? She was as beautiful as the last blooming flower before the winter storm.

For months we went out, those days flew by in a flash, like every good thing does.

We didn't do much really, mostly had study sessions at each others house as the college exams were almost upon us. Really, it's the small things that made me love her more.

Maybe I was blinded by love, but who isn't?

I didn't notice when she started to drift away, or perhaps I did, but I simply didn't want to face it. Facing reality is harder than it seems you know?

Until one day, when it smacked me in the face.

There she stood, as beautiful as ever. She was wearing a simple white T-shirt with a bunny imprinted on the front. It matched well with her pink skirt which gave her a look of innocence.

Except she stood there with even more nervous than the day she confessed. Or perhaps I have mistaken that for what was really guilt.

Her eyes darted every which way, but never did she look at me.

There was a man beside her and I understood why I lost to him.

From the clothes he was wearing, you would immediately notice that he was rich for they were clothes from famous brands. That's probably what caught her eye, she was always one for clothes.

He had simply ponytail which accented his his sharp facial features. Although his skin was slightly dark, it simply made him look warm.

Perhaps if he was a playboy, I would be furious but from the way he stared at me, I knew he wasn't. He had looked at me with wary eyes. I knew that he wasn't proud that he stole her from me, there isn't anything to be proud of.

He was simply wary, wary that I would take her away I suppose. Worried that I would convince her to love me yet again, or perhaps stir her guilt until she comes running back.

I did none of those, she didn't love me, what was the point? Who she loves is up to her, forcing her to love me isn't the same. Even if we did come back together, I knew that it would never be what it used to be for that relationship will be overshadowed by guilt and suspicion.

I was crying for days after that, or so others say. I barely talked and I barely ate. And that girl, my first love, was too sorry to talk to me. But I saw it in her eyes, that desperate need for forgiveness.

But she never asked for it, she didn't think she deserved it, and she really didn't. The guy she truly fell in love with, was the one who apologized.

But perhaps it was for the better, if that didn't happen then I would never have fallen in love with your mother.

So son, don't be so quick to fall in love. And remember, with love comes heartbreak.

But in case you do fall in love, don't be surprised if your heart shatters. If you must know, your mother suffered a heartbreak herself! I do think that it runs in the family," his father said, with a slight chuckle.

"Really?" An 11 year old boy asked, his eyes suspicious. From all the manga he read, he knew that being heartbroken is the worst thing that could ever happen. Nobody should be talking about it with such fondness like his dad was.

As if reading his mind, his dad replied saying, "truly! Why your mom also failed at her first love. But it should be remembered as something beautiful, like an food. Sure it will disappear, but enjoy it when it's there . When it's gone you might be sad or disappointed for a bit, but you will still remember it fondly and anticipate eating it again."

"Of course you would compare it to food," a soft laughter came from the door to the porch. A woman who looked to be in her late twenties came through the door, her short black hair framing her heart-shaped face. She was just coming in to get some refreshments for her friends waiting out on the porch when hearing her husband talk about his first love.

"Honey! Don't you know, everyone can relate to food at some level! It's the universal language!" his father replied with a joyful glint in his eyes.