Something More Than First

Firsts are sweet.


My memories are full of firsts:

• My first baby doll. 
• My first sister. 
• My first time seeing my mom's parents.
• My first entertainment park. 
• My first best friend. 
• My first time leaving home. 
• My first time feeling like I was in love. 

But firsts can also be hard:

• The first time your friend says they hate you. 
• Your first breakup. 
• When the world first seems dark and threatening and suffocating. 
• The first time you feel like you really hate someone.
• The first time you wish that you don't belong anywhere. 

Firsts aren't always sweet. Sometimes they are miserable and you want to forget them forever by creating new firsts.

I've come to see that most of us are trying to forget a ruined first by pursuing the thrills of firsts

• Visiting a new country. 
• Meeting someone of another ethnicity. 
• Hiking three days in the wilderness. 
• Riding a bus. 

But once those firsts are over, the thrill doesn't remain. And I've learned to reevaluate just how I view firsts. 

Part of the horror of moving on from a ruined first is that whatever you find will only seem second. 

For a long time this has bothered me. A lot.

How can I love someone else as much as I loved that first guy? How could it be right? How can I forget what has happened before? Should I forget those pained memories that were once beautiful?

You can never have another first love. You can never have the innocent notion that all people are good and everyone can be loved. Even if you find five more best friends, it will never replace the pain of losing that first best friend. Or of losing anyone.

More firsts don't replace old firsts.

Forgetting is impossible.
Thrills are temporary bursts of light that blind your eyes to the past for only a moment.
And you can ever experience enough new firsts to be blinded to your pain forever. Eventually you'll be exhausted, and you will find yourself with no more desire to pursue anything else. You will be alone in the darkness, with only the memories of ruined firsts to haunt you.

I've realized I no longer want to pursue a life of firsts:

• Who cares about that first walk if the path ends at a cliff? 
• Who cares about that first kiss if it ends in a betrayal? 
• Who cares about that first time jumping out the sky? The adrenaline fades into emptiness all the same. 
• Who cares about that first time doing anything when there is nothing waiting? 

I don't want a life full of firsts. I desire to walk a solid path, loyal and committed. 

A life that is determined and dedicated. I want to walk on a path I have chosen with a destination that is worth traveling to. I don't want to hop all over momentarily firsts. I want to remain true to something that is worth pursuing.

Sometimes I want to see what it would be like to work at Walmart and wait on tables at a small restaurant and sort books at a thrift store and help people at a library and take orders at a small tea shop.
It would be thrilling to experience all those different work atmospheres for a few weeks each, and then be able to move onto a new first job.
But instead I continue on with the job I have. I keep cleaning houses. I remain loyal to the path I have chosen.

Even when I desire loyalty from others — when I struggle to forget the burning betrayal of friends hurting me, I forget that I must remind myself that loyalty starts with me and it starts with the small things.

Loyalty starts now with the intentions to stay forever:

• With the job I have now. 
• With the dreams I have chosen to develop now. 
• With the friends I have now. 
• With the one I someday choose to love now.  

I don't want a first love. I want a love that lasts.

I think God is the same with us.

He doesn't care where we were, who we loved first, what we did first. He only desires that we love Him now and forever. 

That's what I want. A want a life that starts now and continues on forever. 


I want something more than first. 
What about you? What do you want more than anything?