They say that “you never forget your first love,” but I find that argument convoluted. My chief concern with this axiom lies mostly in semantics: I mean, how do you define “your first love?” Is it based merely upon chronology? Is intensity the defining factor? Maturity? Or is it measured by how acutely your heart breaks when the relationship ends? What are the essential properties of a “first love?”
The definition of “first love” is intangible, varying, and impossible to express; it seems absurd to even try. But I do.
I could betray my roots as a student of English Literature, and apply deconstructionist theory to the idea of love; I could talk about how the definition of love is always shifting and adapting to the constantly evolving system of definitions of words around it; I could talk about love’s différance, how it is never one thing or another, but always somewhere in between; I could quote Derrida. But I won’t. I will say, however, that defining your “first love” is like defining your “best moment;” because you never stop living, you continue to accumulate experiences. The “best moment” of your 12 year old self is usurped by the “best moment” you had when you were 16, and that moment is replaced by a later moment, and so on and so forth. Similarly, because you never stop loving, your definition of love is constantly evolving, and what was certainly love when you were 12 was, in retrospect, only infatuation. Thus, each successive love is nullified, or diminished by its successor. So, how do you pinpoint your “first love,” since your notion of love is inconstant?
