There's a first time for everything.

First hand to hold. First kiss. First time falling in love.

I remember the boys who made me cry. When my first "boyfriend" and I broke up, I went to Nandita's house afterward, because we had plans. I was thirteen. I had never been in love, and frankly, the breakup had left me feeling a little relieved. Nothing dramatic, just a few tears. But still, I cried.

If I could trace the path of my life and every boy who made a dent to my heart, I could. There was Tuan, who moved away, but even from a distance and a duration of time he made me smile. Whatever our potential was, it never happened, and I doubt that it ever will. We are friends whose paths briefly crossed in history, whose lives have gone their separate ways without a need to intertwine. We are different people. My feelings stopped ages ago, but I can recall, clearly, that at the time, I was certain I would always have feelings for him. I was wrong. Perhaps I was just romantically inclined to the idea of a reunion. But we grew up, and people change. He is no longer the first person I think of, but at one time, he was my inspiration to one of my greater life lessons.

For a while, we both lived with an unspoken tie. Then Daniel walked into my life. I remember that around this time, the song Burn by Usher came out, and that was the end of Tuan and me. Being near Daniel made me tongue-tied. I had never felt anything so silently electric. How could he not feel it, too? It was on and off for me, for the next four years of high school. I'll probably never be able to quite put my finger on it.

Towards the end of summer between freshman and sophomore year, I bumped into Ryan during my orientation. I remember conversing with him in the rotunda, and I have no idea what we talked about. At one point, I can explicitly recall having told him, "No one's pointing a gun to your head." And he probably gave me a look or smacked me or something.

I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that I fell in love, but when I returned home, thoughts of Ryan floated through my head. They didn't stop. School began. I poured through his old blog entries and saw my own past thoughts phrased beautifully, eloquently in his words, in his mind. Every brunch, every lunch, I became acutely aware of how far away he was standing with his own group, with the seniors. I stayed in my own world, occasionally glancing around, casually, so that my eyes could find him. My routes to, from class, at the bell, would stray to cross with his so that we could exchange hellos. I thought he was perfect. Moreover, I thought he was beautiful. Two different adjectives I had never before used on a guy. Eventually, I confirmed my own feelings, dumped it on his shoulders, and got a boy who didn't know what to do with what I had given him. When it drove me crazy, I asked if I was wasting my time. I still remember the scene: we were in the gym for badminton, and his exact words: "I suppose so." It was supposed to crush me, to end my feelings and allow me to move on. It didn't.

I'm looking through my old entries to help stir up my memories. In one of them, I am having an AIM conversation with Tyler, and I asked him if he thought that it was ever too young to fall in love. He responded yes, and then he said: He is. You're not. I wrote that I would never forget that, but the truth is, I have. Maybe not the concept of it, but I guess the fact that someone saw that was something I hadn't recalled at all. I'm glad I recorded it.

It's funny, I think it was because I saw Ryan's blog that I began using this again. I had written maybe two entries prior, but had left it, undisturbed, much the same way that I tried out other blog sites and left them when unsatisfied. So when you hit 11_04 for November of 2004, you are seeing me when I was first in love. Kind of crazy how much history I have left on this thing.

I'm forgetting something--that was the summer I met Spencer and Albert through Wisdom. They were both older, class of '05, and they were in my life very briefly, probably no more than a year at the most. There is not much to say, but I mention them because I think they helped me grow that summer. They brought out a side to me that I had, in a way, thought was lost, and I'm grateful to them. Occasionally they cross my mind. Albert and I got along really well, but recognized that we were just friends; I regret not having kept in touch with him later on.

Back to Ryan. He got a girlfriend, I couldn't understand why it was her and not me, etc. When he graduated, I wrote a letter, probably 2 pages or something. Then, when I was at graduation, I ripped it up. Why? Because he had a girlfriend. I don't even remember what it said, but he didn't need some little kid pouring out her heart on a sheet of 8x11 looseleaf when he was content without her. I decided to leave things as they were, especially as I thought I would never see him again.

There was Mike. He was cute, but a little too nice for me. I remember that he asked me to his junior prom, but I can't remember how. I didn't end up going; I think that if I had, it would have been for all the wrong reasons. The summer after sophomore year, I donated my hair and decided to wear a cap everywhere. I remember when Mike called me while I was at Stephanie's house, and he asked me to go to a movie in a way that left no room for "no." We saw Sky High. I remember wishing that he had asked me out months earlier, when I had still thought that I could like him. I was in the getting-over-Ryan stage, but my feelings were starting to stray toward Daniel. Later, he sent me an e-mail revealing that he had been crushing on me for two years. Timing sucks. But do I really wish I'd known? Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything. The sparks weren't there. He had a killer smile, though.

So Mike gave it a shot, but it was Daniel who remained in the back of my mind. Junior year came along, and I met Kevin. I had known who he was before, but we had never really talked until Justin's birthday. I still remember that we watched The Corpse Bride, and whispered and giggled all through it.

There's another Dan-- he was there that day, when we bumped into him at the theatres. Here's a guy who, for years, had always been a little flirty to me, and if he had been a bit more explicit, I'm sure I would have reciprocated. As it was, I could never figure out if he was just a flirtatious guy or if he actually felt anything toward me. I'd always really admired him. To this day, I wish I had been brave enough to ask. When I thought he might be into me, I found out he had a girlfriend. Until the very last day of high school, he spoke to me as though every word had a second meaning. He was a mystery, evoking an intrigue. One day, he taught me to play "Wong Fei-Hong" on the guitar, which to this day is still the only thing I can remember.

I think, perhaps, that it was another issue with timing. Timing's always been a bitch. Maybe he had thought of me then, maybe not, but it was Kevin who made a move. I remember seeing him that weekend because we were holding a car wash. We began talking more and more, eventually becoming a couple without having personally made anything official. I really liked him, but I think my problem was that I hadn't spent enough time liking him. I had no good reason to break up with him, other than that I was a giant pansy. We got along extremely well--we had all the right banter, I could speak to him with ease, and he gave me the perfect first kiss, short and sweet at a concert, not a lame setting. In retrospect, I was afraid that I might be with him for the rest of my life. The idea terrified me. When we separated for a week, it felt no different than being together, so we became a pair again. That last month, though, was different, unhappy. I shut down, shut him out, waiting for him to break up with me. When he did, he requested that I not talk to him for a period of time. I still remember how smart I thought he was, to be able to know yourself well enough to understand that you need both space and time to heal.

Chi handled things differently. Things with us were rocky from the start, awkward to such a level that one wonders how they ever got together in the first place. Who knows what might have happened if Alex had never stepped in on prom night, questioning us until I said yes, we're together. Yes? he echoed. Yes, I said, snug in his arms. And that's our story. It ended less than two months later; you probably saw that coming when you noticed that he never actually took the initiative to ask me out. We talked on the phone, and I cried. I didn't understand why; it was what I wanted, with absolute certainty. I wasn't devastated, but there was some major sniffling going on. I won't go into all the crazies that happened after we broke up, straining my summer and the start of my senior year. Today, we are at a place where he can call me if ever he needs me, and vice versa. That is, assuming I'm in the same country.

Let's backtrack a little to the summer. I had volunteered for the Bay Area Writing Program, which took either six or eight teaching assistants for classes of students, two TAs in each class. By the draw, this had thrown me back into the same room with Kevin. We became friends again. There were things I couldn't ignore about the way we clicked, like the stacks of paper we both pretended to drop at the exact same moment, or the way he picked me up, or the vibe we sent off even to the little kids in junior high, who questioned out loud if we were together. We went hiking up Mission Peak, and he admitted that he liked me again. I definitely had feelings for him, but I wanted them to grow. I thought I needed more time, but I didn't tell him that; instead, I said I didn't want to be in a relationship.

Throughout this, Daniel fluttered in and out of my heart. At the end of this summer, he was in. So was Kevin, but that turned out to not matter-- he and Stephanie became a couple, and that was essentially the end of my relationship with both of them. To hell with 'em. I turned my attentions to Daniel.

He was a cause of tears.

Actually, the very first boy who ever made me cry was Nelson, in junior high, not because of any of the reasons above, but because our friendship was falling apart. I remember sitting on the park bench at Forest Park, and Ashtine (of all people, imagine that-- and we are now lost to each other) was there for my support. She sat by me as I broke down, and if there is anything I remember about this girl it is that she was a solid beam for me in that moment.

But, disregarding that. I have cried for Nandita, too, but they are still my best friends today. Man, junior high was just chaos for us kids and crazy raging hormones.

Okay, so back to senior year. Daniel didn't actually make me cry. It took the combined effort of Michele and Barbara. They didn't mean to, of course. Things happened, words were uttered, suggestions made, it (sadly) involved prom (I know, how much more of a teenager could I be?). Basically, I felt as though I had been betrayed to no end. Senior year was just chock full of that emotion for me--betrayal from Stephanie and Kevin, betrayal from my parents, betrayal from two of my greatest friends. It was all unintentional, but that doesn't stop the emotion from flooding through me.

Backtrack. November 11 of senior year: LiveRight at Stanford. I remember, precisely, how it felt to be holding up a camera, filming Daniel as he serenaded the girl he was asking out, and I knew that there would be eyes on me, watching to see my reaction. I'm not going to lie--it was easy, really, to slap a smile on my face and pretend to take it all in good stride. For Christ's sake, I was filming the damn thing. Did it tear at my insides? Yes. But I had known the day was coming; I had known it was his day to do something special. He had given Cindy and me a peek performance, after all.

Did he have to use the song that he knew I was obsessed with? The song he had practised on me, when he had said that he wouldn't? If I had any bitterness toward him, it was for that act alone: taking what everyone else had marked as mine. They all knew it; they'd suffered having me play it over and over again. Man, I remember being in a slump for the longest time. Even Daniel noticed. What was I supposed to say when asked "Are you okay?" Sorry, I used up my smile on the day you broke my heart singing to another girl.

Fast forward. He always handled it really well when I got embarrassed. It was February, I think, and I was with him and Michele. The topic of my emotions came up, and it was made evident that I wasn't over him. He dismissed it easily as I felt my face heat up, and Michele and I started laughing.

And when I found out that Barbara had suggested to him to ask Michele to prom, and that, moreover, he was considering it, I thought I was destroyed. Double betrayal. I still remember that it was late at night, and I was talking to her on AIM, and I began to cry. I knew she hadn't meant to upset me, that she hadn't known. I thought it was so unfair; that she already had a boyfriend, and she had to come after the guy I liked, even though I knew he didn't feel the same. I would have felt like he was choosing her over me. In the end, the topic was avoided, and Michele was able to bring her boyfriend up with her.

Enter college. October 2007. From the moment I met John, I liked him. How was I to know that everyone else didn't? He gave me encouragement at my first practice, and he was a little quiet, to be sure, but hadn't he been shouting at the team just moments ago? Surely he couldn't be very shy, or he wouldn't be captain. And yes, his handshake was beyond weak, it sucked. He is probably the only boy in my recorded history to have made the ladder with a weak handshake. But hey, there's a first time for everything.

This is where I get to the real story behind the title: John was the first boy who ever really made me cry. He never knew, of course. I might always resent him for making me feel as though he played me like a goddamn puppet. In reality it was a combination of both of us being awkward to levels as of yet undefined. He brought me to his home, dropped me off in Irvine for Thanksgiving, picked me up from the airport. But with every step forward there were two steps back. I'd never been so confused. In May, I finally asked him about the past year. We were sitting in Summit. I still remember-- it had been Tiffany's birthday recently, and she had received a message from this guy she had met earlier in the year who had shut her out. They had a talk; closure, I think. It made me envious, and I wanted that closure, too, so I was determined to get it. I called him, we set up a date, and I bought him a popsicle and got a bottle of juice. My chin was resting on the bottle cap and I asked him about whether or not he had ever had feelings for me (or had I really imagined it?) and he admitted that yes, he did. And then he told me all the stuff I didn't want to hear, I can hardly recall it--something about the obstacle of him being captain, or being older, or something. Essentially, he was saying no, we wouldn't be together. All I could remember thinking was that I needed to get home, to find Tiffany and fall apart, but instead I sat and listened and agreed. Maybe a little blindly. What happened to all the stuff I wanted to say to him? When we left, he asked me to help return his bike, because he had his skateboard on him. I complied, and when he asked me what I was doing next, I think he would've had me go to CLICs with him, but I was getting tired of trying to act normal, and I found an excuse to leave and made my way back to ERC.

On the way, I called her, and when I got back I sat down in that favorite corner of the couch in our suite's common room and I sobbed my heart out. I had never before cried so hard because of a boy. To my memory, that was the last time I cried. Even Ryan, who I can admit to having been in love with, I don't think has ever made me cry. Which is something, because he was my everything-- I failed to mention that a year later, he called me, and we began to talk again, occassionally. He came back to my life for some time, having shut out everyone else, and I would stay up on the phone with him until the sun rose. I probably liked to fantasise that I was his girl; he bought me my first UCSD sweatshirt (too small to wear, but it is exactly the one I would have gotten) and I could fall asleep listening to the sound of his voice (which I was also in love with), though I would never admit to him that that was why I fell asleep. When John seemingly showed me the end, I made a resolve to get over it.

A few days later was Sun God, where I found myself drawn to Nate. When he asked if I was involved, I replied no, or I would have been lying. My relationship with John had, after all, been in my head. However, I remained noncommittal. When he asked me on a date, I found myself saying "maybe." After a little explanation, he suggested that a date, too, was noncommittal. So I agreed, and we set something tentatively for the next week.

The day after that was Carol's birthday. At the end of the night, I was one of the first volunteers to head home. I remember asking someone for a ride, and then John turned to me and said he was leaving, too. And I gave him a funny look and said, "You live here." (Same complex.) He said that he was taking some other freshmen back, and as we walked to the car, I did a head count and realised that we had six people. He responded with a firm, determined even, "We'll fit."

I remember Ashley saying, "Don't worry, you can have shotgun." And when we got to the car, he had to take a minute to clear out the backseat, and then, as I was about to head in, Ashley barrelled me aside, legitimately shoved me out of the way, and I found myself with nothing left but shotgun. After John dropped everyone off, he asked if I wanted to talk.

For the next two, three? hours we talked in the common room downstairs. We talked about his past, our past, all the obstacles that had stood in our way and the chance of our future. We talked about the upcoming summer, and I brought up the possibilities of him moving on, or me moving on. He seemed to think that I would meet another boy in the fall, at the start of the new season. I thought he would meet a girl over the summer.

And, even though I told him I would not hold him to it, thereby releasing him from the following promise, uttered without the thought that should have been behind it, he said to me, and I will never forget it, because a girl does not forget this kind of stuff: "I'll wait for you."

And I believed him.

Perhaps I sent the wrong signals that summer. Perhaps things were simply not meant to be. School started up again. I saw him at practice. For his birthday, I gave him a miniature bird that I had looked for all summer in Nor Cal before I finally found it at the end. He did not mention the subject of us. Finally, one day, about a year after we had first met, we were at practice and I asked to talk. We stepped outside, and I asked if he was over me. Yes. All I needed to know. And then, as I was about to go back in, perhaps to create an actual conversation so that it hurt less, he began to talk, finding things to say. I realised later that it was just filler, because a six-word conversation on the touchy subject of emotions probably left him feeling a little bereft. So I listened, and with his empty words I created new hopes for myself. He began to say "I still like you as a--" and he stopped himself and started over: "I still like you." That was all I heard. He still had feelings for me. There was a but; I could understand that there was always a but. I don't remember what it was, just knew that I accepted it because it had become a part of us anyway. But the words made me happy.

It wasn't until later, in the safety of my own room, without the vulnerability of his being there, that I questioned why he had answered "yes" to being over me. I resigned myself to the fact that he was, in fact, just trying to let me down gently.

And then there's Alan.

I don't know where that's going. Possibly nowhere. We met freshman year, and at one point he went on a date with Tiff (which I may always laugh about), but I never really thought about him differently until this year. We've always had a banter, mostly because I find it so easy to insult him. Spring Quarter, though, he became more than just a friend, but we never officially crossed over to a new status.

I had a scarily similar scenario with him the last day that I saw him-- we were at Westfield in SF, sitting at a table, and three other kids had left to get food. I found myself resting my chin on a water bottle as I asked him if we were anything, and in my mind I got a flashback to the moment when I asked John if I had ever been anything to him. I swear, it was the same setup--he sat to my left, and I was in the same stance. Both times, it took me a while to get the words out, but I knew I had to or I would drive myself crazy wondering. For a crazy, sad moment, I wondered if things with Alan would end the same way as they did with John. After all, in both scenes there is a summer approaching to provide a split.

He replied that he hadn't intended to get into anything before leaving to Taiwan, which is where he is for the summer, and I can safely say that I certainly hadn't planned to get involved before deploying for 5 months to New Zealand. I was relieved to see that we were in agreement as to where we stood, and I found hope because he said something closely similar to "As far as I'm concerned, before we officially become a couple, you're free to do anything you want."

That hope has subsided into a recognition of non commitment. He has made no effort to talk to me. I IMed him twice, once when I first got internet and was excited, and another time recently, which helped me see where my feelings are. My stance was that I couldn't possibly hold him to anything, especially as I wouldn't even be in SD for fall quarter. It would be unfair to ask him to wait, and I also didn't want to try and face a long-distance relationship while abroad, especially something that had been so new at a time when things were ending.

The truth is, I miss him.

I forgot to facebook stalk him until a while later, but when I did, I began to feel the pangs of jealousy. Everything was appropriately acceptable; they were small pangs, until I saw a single photo that drove me insane. Boy, was I upset. But can I say anything? Do I have a right? No! Even in my unreasonable female head I can find no valid argument. (But I guess that's why they call it unreasonable.) I have nothing to say. So fine, screw him! To hell with it. Let him fall over 1083905832 Taiwanese girls in scantily clad clothing. I can convince myself I don't care! >[

The reason I chose to message him a second time was because of a quote from Shakespeare's Hamlet: To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man. I grudgingly admitted that I needed to talk to him.

And it's true, I've a while to go before I'll be back in SD. I might be waiting for my trimester to end, but back home they still have to finish the summer, and then start fall quarter, and I won't be joining my fellow citizens until the quarter is nearly over. There's a good deal that can happen in that time, maybe not here, but for sure there. Maybe he'll meet a freshman chick. Who knows?

I guess I just don't want to see a pattern.

Man, punched this out in four hours. If only I could show this kind of dedication to writing the essays that will actually be graded. Boys, ugh. Who gives a shit? I've got bigger fish to fry, and hopefully they're mercury free!