I always refer to them as relapses. To myself at least.

My very first love.

It's become seasonal. It gets cold out and I remember. I remember nights spent keeping each other warm. Staying up after everyone else had fallen asleep. I remember holding your hand in my pocket.

It's residual now. The love has faded, but the tug of lingering attraction remains. It's been months since I've seen you, and it's felt like years and I've been happy.

She makes me so happy. We've almost been together for two years.

But she wasn't the first.