Yes, this may be surprising. I was only thirteen years old at the time. I don't know how or why it happened to me so early, but I fell deeply in love with a guy I used to find annoying just two months before.
It was 1997 in Chittagong, Bangladesh. My family had just moved to a new apartment. After a few weeks, I started school again. I made new friends in the neighborhood, including a girl named Ivy.
One morning on my way to school, I bumped into Ivy outside my building. She was standing with a guy named Mamun, who lived next door. He said "Hi," and we exchanged brief greetings before I left. But I noticed him looking at me—a look filled with something special.
In the following days, I noticed Mamun often on his balcony, smiling at me when I left for school or returned. If he wasn't there, his friends would yell his name when they saw me. At first, I was annoyed and even asked Ivy to tell him to stop.
After my exams, I had a break and often read books on our rooftop. Mamun would come to his rooftop too. Our roofs were so close they almost touched.
One day, while I was reading, Mamun came out and smiled at me. OH MY GOD! That sweet smile captivated me instantly. I smiled back for the first time—a moment I could never forget. We began smiling at each other whenever we met but never spoke. I was sure he liked me because he would come up to the roof immediately if he saw me from his balcony. I fell deeply in love, surprised by the beautiful and happy feelings.
Mamun did come to my roof once to talk, but I was nervous and wanted him to leave. I feared rumors, which spread quickly in Bangladesh. When we spoke, I saw deep affection in his eyes. I usually just smiled, rarely speaking. Life felt wonderful, though Mamun never said he loved me. I thought it was because I was five or six years younger.
Soon, I learned my family was moving to Canada permanently. I was devastated and cried all night. When Mamun found out, he asked me on the roof if it was true. I said yes, and he asked how long I'd be gone. "Maybe forever," I replied, explaining we were going to settle there. He looked depressed and only said, "Oh." I told him my flight date.
The next month, during Ramadan, Mamun came to say goodbye before leaving to celebrate Eid with his family. I felt incredibly sad, as if losing something vital. He said he thought I was a sweet girl and wished me a great life in Canada. Oh my god, I couldn't hold back; my eyes grew watery. Not wanting him to see me cry, I said "you too," forced a smile, and hurried away.
That was the last time I saw my first love. Now, four years later, I'm in Canada. I have a new love in my life, whom I cherish deeply. I am over Mamun now, but whenever I remember our time together—smiling and talking on the roof—I feel down. I wonder where he is and if we'll ever meet again. I can never forget my first love.