First Love
By Steve
- 985 reads
I think I fell in love with her when I first met her. She was so cute. I was obsessed with cuteness and beauty.
For a while, it seemed that there could be no other. I wrote her little notes telling her how I felt. She read them and then her friends read them.
I spoke to her on the telephone for hours. I could speak for hours more. I wanted so much to be with her. I wanted so much to be in love. No one could tear us apart.
Her name was Beth and she was very much my first love. I was only 13 but I had always liked her. She was Korean just like me but very Americanized. When my friends told me that she liked me too, I was honored. I felt that she was so much above me.
The funny thing about it was that I wasn't really feeling sexual love. The three months that we went out, only once or twice did we actually go out to a movie or visit the other person's home. We spent most of the time on the telephone, talking.
I remember that she liked the way I said the word, "porfavor (Please in Spanish)." I can't remember exactly what we talked about, but what I do remember is that we could talk about anything and it was ok. it was really the first time I spoke to another person about myself...
for a long while, it was something I was ashamed of, my Korean identity. Foods like Kim-chi and other side dishes were objects of curiosity to my friends. And Korea. People hardly knew a thing about Korea but with Beth, I could say things...
I could really say I loved her because I did not want to possess her. It was strange. I was during this time I became exposed to Hustler and Pornography. I and a friend of mine had spent a good $300 of my parents phone bills on phone sex numbers. It was a time when I masturbated a lot. That was how I had sex with hot American girls, through masturbation... I guess, but somehow
my love for Beth was pure. I know this because the one time I went over to her house and we were lying on the couch, I did absolutely nothing. For like an hour and a half, I had a hard-on and did nothing. I did not even know what to do since I felt so good being next to her. it was the first time I began to write poetry also...
Because she became the IDEAL, I think, the more and more I wrote to her, I was writing to girls in general... I was writing to my ideal version of a girl and when we spoke on the phone, it was as if she were immaterial. She spoke about being adopted and living in an American family. She was ahead of me. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She had naturally become Americanized. Did I love her because she was so natural?
I remember the few times my friends and I smoked pot together and we would talk about being there for each other and protecting and loving each other always. Those moments seem so real and we cry and hug each other. Back in reality, those same friends become too cool for us and we backstab each other much more than protect each other. But with Beth, the veil had been shattered and I literally felt like our voices at least were swimming in the mysterious sea of love, of being, of true sharing and caring...
but then there were her cool friends and my not so cool friends and they would pull us apart...
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poetry and porn. I really
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