Eleanor

Let me tell you about my first love.

Her name was Eleanor.

I've known her for years, but we never really 'clicked'. We had an blase relationship; I knew she existed since I was maybe ten or twelve, but that was that.

I was on the cusp of manhood - the strange, confusing and often, gray, area when a boy is no more a boy, but, not quite a man - when I first saw her in a different light. Even then, for me, it was never fireworks and sparks. What I felt for her developed overtime, a sort of understanding and mutual affection that we would be a big part of each other's lives.

So much about the world, I learned with her. She opened new doors for me, and we explored many a place together. Those were sweet, halcyon days.

I wouldn't say she was pretty, but she had a nice figure and was curvy in all the right places, just enough to be pleasing to the eye. Of course, no one is perfect. She was a little on the heavy side, but like I said, curvy. And looking back now, she was what society would deem as high maintainance. Mostly I remember our good days, though I would say that she had an unpredictable disposition. Everything would be fine, and then suddenly, she would leave you stranded on the side of the road.

We said goodbye after two years together. It was a sad, sad day. The heavens wept for me, and till today, I still remember her with much fondness.

Nothing dramatic happened, just that fate stepped in. That, and my parents decided to sell her off.

There will always be a space in a boy's heart that will be occupied by his first car.

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