Day 3-Your first love

Well, I suppose I could regale you with stories of my childhood loves, and later teenaged loves/infatuations/obsessions, but I think I’m going to take this in an entirely different direction.

My first loves were creative: reading/writing and dancing, though I don’t recall which came first. In my memories, they always seem to blend; coming on at the same time and then fading away and returning at inopportune moments.

I think I fell in love with words first. My first sentence was uttered at 18 months, and since then, I haven’t really stopped using words to my advantage. Even in my silence, words surround me, swirling inside my head waiting for the right moment to strike. I’ve been told that at 18 months, you should be putting two words together. At 18 months, I fact-checked with my mother. I believe my first sentence was around 10 words, and generally sought to confirm that my grandmother was coming to see me after I woke up from my nap. My mother was floored. This, along with other early indicators/warning signs, should have convinced my mother that whatever I did in life was going to involve words. I think she just thought I was going to be one of those kids that never shut up…

So, there. That is my first love. I think it explains a lot.

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