When you grow up, to be honest, I think being in love is the most important first time. First love, first kiss, first… you know, other stuff.
Growing up we figure put that those first times in fact can happen much more often. First true love, first home, kid, broken heart.
First pain which you are unable to be described even.
First… step from darkness which appeared from nowhere.
… and then, sometimes, if you are lucky enough, although this “luck thing” is not a good definition, because very often it is a lot of work, no luck at all…
Again… first home.
To be honest a human being can be broken so many times that it is depressing when you look back. At your own life. You start to think, that all this pain in fact was not necessary, because you are not that dump to know that it is not okay to spit on an electric lamp. I mean really… okay I spit on a hot light-bulb.
Oh truly, that was just an experiment!!!
Tell me that you done nothing stupid in your life.
But to be honest stupidity is somehow attached to human beings. We do not lear on our first time. Maybe we are too emotional? Maybe we wanna check if the second time will be different… Einstein had a lot to say about it.
Maybe we do not celebrate Christmas like others, maybe we in fact care only about winter time, but still… this will be our first winter time in a new home. More. In our first home. Truly one. Oh my, I am getting emotional. Come on, I am not that soft. Must be hormones. They always like to be blamed.
From the first time.