My first love wasn’t the guy that I first had a school girl crush on, It wasn’t the guy that I liked in seventh grade, It wasn’t my first date,or even my first relationship. It was a guy who I didn’t even date. My first love showed me kindness, Showed me every side of him, he made me want to push him off a cliff and then rush to the bottom to catch him, He told me many things, but yet still said “you don’t even know me” but in protest I did know him. Talking hours on the phone each day, and sending and receiving texts that were meaningless to most, but it meant a lot to me, The simple “hey” made me drop everything and reply quick. I did know this person, I could have well written a full four novels about this person and still need room for more. My first love didn’t sweep me off my feet to fairy tale land. He didn’t do anything spectacular, all he did was made all the heartaches,headaches,all the bad, disappear . But the one thing my first love never taught me was how to glue myself back together once I was broken, Because if he did teach me that then why am I still shattered broken now. Why is it that the only person who has the right glue to glue me back together, shattered me in the first place. No, my first love never taught me how to pick up my shattered self, But he did teach me one thing. He taught me to simply be happy.