First love strikes you deep. It snaps the breath right outta your body, and warms and chills you at once. All the feelings are for the first time. Love blinds you and you find your thoughts recycling back again and again. Jobs, school, responsibility take a backseat. Every want and need is met in a single moment, place, thing … space in time so no need to be anywhere else. Sigh. The feeling when your brimming with that first love it is hard to imagine life getting sweeter. Possibly it doesn’t. I still have bouts of heavy nostalgia for my first love. I found him in the mountains … My first love was snowboarding. Everything about it. I lived for those days slashing around the mountain, with good friends, crushing through the trees. Being up before the sunrise and being brought to life by the cold slapping you in the face. The butterflies when you hit a drop that is a little taller than you thought it would be. Crashing into snow so deep your up to your ears in powder. It is fall into winter, and I’m in the tropics. But my body is programmed to get excited for the snow to start falling…and I can’t help but be excited for the snow to start falling! But I’m in the tropics, I couldn’t be further from any sort of snowboarding! I’m where I’m supposed to be, but I do admit that I have not fully mended from this break up. I’m very much still in love. However. I’m seeing other sports. Diving is really enjoyable… and surfing and sailing are quickly filling in the void. Nostalgia still pours over me like molasses when I think of the years I spent chasing snow. Now I’m after waves, bobbing among the islands, and bit by bit am putting to bed (for now) my first love.