I Wish I Had Known

He had had taken my hand and told me, “First love will always be special.” And he had smiled and walked away to be with his girl.

I didn’t understand what he said. Not until a few hours later when I learnt that the guy who had put a ring in my hand the day before had been sent home in disgrace from college. He would never return.

I still don’t understand in entirety what his words really meant. I guess he knew then that we would go on to split, me and my guy.

Split. What a cliché word to say.

I guess he knew that my “first love” would remain special in some inexplicable way even though I would grow up to hate him and loathe even the mention of his name.

After all, which girl can forget the indescribable feeling of butterflies waltzing in her tummy when, for the first time a guy holds her hand and puts a ring on it.

These are special memories.

But he knew that we were never meant to be – that “we” were just an illusion.

I wish I had known too.