love and we were each other’s first love. I had no idea that you decided to love me.”
“What does it matter, baby?” I whisper to her.
“We don’t love each other in the same way. You will never love another person in the same way you love your first love. First love is a reckless, no-holds-barred, now or never, I don’t give a damn, I’ve never felt this way in my life, I’m so fucking happy, I’m completely obsessed with this person love. You are my first love, I fell for you.
“ But every love after your first love gets a wiser you. A more tempered you. Someone who isn’t as gung-ho, someone who follows with their head first, not their heart. Someone who isn’t neurotically possessed with the feeling of you always wanting to be happy. Someone who loves you with a degree of caution, now knowing that love doesn’t always save the day. That’s how you love me. And it’s unfair when someone is your first love and you are their second.
“ I can’t sit on our balcony, look at that picture of Jasmine and laugh at it because you are my first love. I have that obsessive, possessive feeling for you. And it’s unfair because you never told me that you’ve loved before.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “And so I will always love you in a way that you will never love me.” She turns around and we lock eyes.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Winnie. I can’t erase my past but I do apologize for not telling you about other women, though I thought I was doing you a favor. The fact is that I started seeing Jasmine when I was seventeen and I stopped shortly after that picture of us. But I’ve already told you this. And I hate to have to tell you this again but, yes, I loved her first but I loved you last.”
“No, Jacob. You loved me next.”
“Winnie,” I run my hand over my face. “What … do you want … me to say?”
“Nothing. Because you will always love your first love. No matter what they do, what they say or how they hurt you.” Her voice trembles as she walks towards me, placing the coffee cup on an end table. “And I can only imagine how you feel about Jasmine because it’s so hard to walk away from your first love.” She swallows to hold back a sob as she walks past me and opens the condo door. What the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t know what else to say about this shit. What am I supposed to say? “And it’s even harder when they let you leave.” She closes the door.
Jasmine
( principalities .)
“Well, I just spoke to Dun-yell,” I hear Malcolm’s mother, Angie, say over the now familiar-sounding speaker. “And you, of course, are not meeting all of her required needs.” Malcolm exhales and then steals a look at me with a ‘here we go’ expression on his face.
“Listen here Ma, you two aren’t going to drive me crazy for the duration of your visit,” Malcolm says as he turns the truck onto Harbor Street. We’re in my neck of the woods now so I have a feeling that we’re headed to see Marlon. Oh boy. After that talk with Jacob, I just feel completely scattered. I haven’t processed what he’s said. I haven’t processed what he asked. I don’t think I fully realize that Jacob told me that our love was a wicked love, filled with philandering tendencies and artful manipulations.
Perverse.
And though I haven’t officially grasped that Jacob told me our love was completely vile; to my surprise, the thought of our twisted love is secretly both enthralling and disappointing. Why? Well, because I was living in perversion and I had no idea that’s what it was. I was a pervert for all of those years and didn’t even have the opportunity to revel in it. Something about our snarky love is titillating. And, as much as Jacob’s admission was supposed to turn me away from him, it only made me want to rip my clothes off and keep on being perverted. I’m in a pickle.
“What does it matter, baby?” I whisper to her.
“We don’t love each other in the same way. You will never love another person in the same way you love your first love. First love is a reckless, no-holds-barred, now or never, I don’t give a damn, I’ve never felt this way in my life, I’m so fucking happy, I’m completely obsessed with this person love. You are my first love, I fell for you.
“ But every love after your first love gets a wiser you. A more tempered you. Someone who isn’t as gung-ho, someone who follows with their head first, not their heart. Someone who isn’t neurotically possessed with the feeling of you always wanting to be happy. Someone who loves you with a degree of caution, now knowing that love doesn’t always save the day. That’s how you love me. And it’s unfair when someone is your first love and you are their second.
“ I can’t sit on our balcony, look at that picture of Jasmine and laugh at it because you are my first love. I have that obsessive, possessive feeling for you. And it’s unfair because you never told me that you’ve loved before.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “And so I will always love you in a way that you will never love me.” She turns around and we lock eyes.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Winnie. I can’t erase my past but I do apologize for not telling you about other women, though I thought I was doing you a favor. The fact is that I started seeing Jasmine when I was seventeen and I stopped shortly after that picture of us. But I’ve already told you this. And I hate to have to tell you this again but, yes, I loved her first but I loved you last.”
“No, Jacob. You loved me next.”
“Winnie,” I run my hand over my face. “What … do you want … me to say?”
“Nothing. Because you will always love your first love. No matter what they do, what they say or how they hurt you.” Her voice trembles as she walks towards me, placing the coffee cup on an end table. “And I can only imagine how you feel about Jasmine because it’s so hard to walk away from your first love.” She swallows to hold back a sob as she walks past me and opens the condo door. What the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t know what else to say about this shit. What am I supposed to say? “And it’s even harder when they let you leave.” She closes the door.
Jasmine
( principalities .)
“Well, I just spoke to Dun-yell,” I hear Malcolm’s mother, Angie, say over the now familiar-sounding speaker. “And you, of course, are not meeting all of her required needs.” Malcolm exhales and then steals a look at me with a ‘here we go’ expression on his face.
“Listen here Ma, you two aren’t going to drive me crazy for the duration of your visit,” Malcolm says as he turns the truck onto Harbor Street. We’re in my neck of the woods now so I have a feeling that we’re headed to see Marlon. Oh boy. After that talk with Jacob, I just feel completely scattered. I haven’t processed what he’s said. I haven’t processed what he asked. I don’t think I fully realize that Jacob told me that our love was a wicked love, filled with philandering tendencies and artful manipulations.
Perverse.
And though I haven’t officially grasped that Jacob told me our love was completely vile; to my surprise, the thought of our twisted love is secretly both enthralling and disappointing. Why? Well, because I was living in perversion and I had no idea that’s what it was. I was a pervert for all of those years and didn’t even have the opportunity to revel in it. Something about our snarky love is titillating. And, as much as Jacob’s admission was supposed to turn me away from him, it only made me want to rip my clothes off and keep on being perverted. I’m in a pickle.
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