Wow. This could be tricky.
What exactly is a first love? Is it a boy I liked in first grade, Robert A., who one day carried my lunchbox home from school on his pinkie finger to show his strength? (Hey, this was first grade, in the 60's. We didn't have backpacks or even any books to carry home back then.)
Could it be the boy I pined for during most of my sophomore and junior years of high school? Who I sat next to in Spanish class, who smelled so good, had such big brown eyes, and never knew I was alive?
Maybe it was my first "real boyfriend", Marcos. The first one I made out with. I thought I was in love, but it only lasted a few months.
I hope it wasn't that big jerk, Kevin, (that I also thought I was in love with) that I wasted losing my virginity to.
I also hold a special place in my heart for Freddie, who I loved passionately for about 4 years, but who was ultimately never able to return the feelings. Not in the way I needed him to, anyway.
There is another love, though. That lasted through and beyond all those other mere boys, and I still love today.
Yes, my only first love that has remained true and continues to warm my heart...
The one that captivated me from the very first moment...
The one that I still keep a collection of mementos for...
The one that I still dream of at night...
The praying mantis!
Silly, but true! This love of bugs is a big part of who I am.
I remember the first time I saw a praying mantis. I was in first grade, and we were lined up outside the classroom, getting ready to come in from lunch. As we stood there, one kid pointed and said, "Look at that big praying mantis on the wall!" I was fascinated. Intrigued. The mantis was up too high on the wall for us to reach, but I soon found others. I found there were many in my own yard at home. And the rest is history.
Here I am, at around age 8, with a praying mantis on my finger. But look at my face. How I adored that critter!
Look at this face. What's not to love?