It was autumn. We were new to the area. My mum and his mum had become friends.

The walk to his house had been cold, but the warmth hit me as i stepped through the

door. The small kitchen was untidy, almost dirty, but warm. Clinging to the air was the

almost unimaginable scent of dogs and fabric softener. The smell was strong, yet not

unpleasant. The hum of the drier mingled with the idle gossip of our mums, was

broken by the scruffy, blonde boy thundering down the stairs. His eyes were green

and cat-like. He wore a dirty football kit. I was 12.

As autumn changed to winter we became mates. As winter changed to spring we

became friends. By summer we were in love. Butterflies fluttered constantly inside

me. Electricity shocked through my arm when he held my hand. Every inch of my body

 was a firework, a sparkler, which exploded when lit by his kisses. The world around us

 dissolved, leaving us alone.

We spent the whole of that summer together.  No school, no friends, just us. Our

days were spent walking, weaving our way through the cool, dark wood, the twigs and

fallen leaves crackling and snapping underfoot. It was often the only sound to be

heard. He carved our initials in a tree. Every day we'd check they were still there.

They always were.

The wood gave way to the fields. The grass was waist high and the greenest of

greens.It smelled so sweet, the scent of everyones childhood summers. The river

stretched, and the dam glistened in the distance. It was our very own Paradise.

The day he pushed his sister in the dam will forever be etched in my memory.

She emerged, like a monster from an ancient horror movie, head to toe in slime!

I knew he'd done wrong, but his laughter, as infectious as ever, took me in it's grip

and refused to let go. What a sight we must've looked as we half-carried, half-

dragged her home. Our mirth so uncontrollable we could barely stand, but not-so for

the little girl covered in pondweed, who was visibly shivering despite the heat. That

day we laughed until we ached.

The days were all ours, and so were the nights. We'd hire films that went unwatched.

Our chip-shop chips were left uneaten. I was only ever hungry for his time. The

five-minute walk home took an hour, it was never long enough. We simply couldn't

say "goodbye".

I don't know when it ended and i dont know why. I only know he broke my heart.

The world i lived in once again revolved. I found new interests with the friends i'd

forgotten. I moved on.

20 years (and a lifetime) later, i've shivered at someones touch, i've hungered

for someones kisses, i've loved again. But the butterflies have been stiller, the

 fireworks damper, and the electricity never quite so shocking. It was the only

perfect time in my life.

My first love died when i was 14. He was unhappy and felt he couldnt go on. I felt

a sadness then, that once again, has rivalled any sadness i've felt since.

My memories of my innocence are precious, eternal, and for that i give thanks.