Most young ladies remember their first love. Good or bad, the memory lives. Some of those females end up with their first loves. Others discover that although the love held a treasure so rare and individual as to never be duplicated, it passed with time, events, and growth. Faded like a radiant sunset mesmerizing a gaze until there's simply nothing left to see but darkness.
Passion released, unguarded emotion, declarations of never ending love. All heartfelt. Intense. Romantic. Laughter and tears become the staples of surviving it. Words gush and fall into silence. Communication makes awkward attempts to explain feelings so confused and un-explainable.
It sometimes ends without closure. Hidden in secret memories. Rarely surfacing except when an aroma, a song, an expression sends those recollections bombarding a present with little room for the past.
First love no less real than the last love with its own memorial in the hearts of lovers.
Father, you are Love. We can only attempt love because of you, who you are. We fail at its perfection, trying to capture a glimpse of its purity but realizing we are stained by sin and incapable of the glory inherent in how you intended it. Forgive us for our impurity and selfishness. Thank you for the redemption you offer, the eternal Love that covers us in Jesus. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.