Immigrant Stories, Immigrant Lives
When I was 16-years-old, I fell in love with a very young, handsome man.
But, when my mother realized what was happening, she sent me to Quezaltepeque in El Salvador, far away from where I was born. After that, I was again sent to another even farther away place.
In 1987 I married another man. I gave birth to two children with him. Ten years later, in 1997, we separated and then soon after we divorced.
In 2002, I was visiting my mother in El Salvador, and the door bell rang. I went to open the door, and do you know who was there? It was my first love!
I was so happy to see him again. He invited me to go out, and we went out to eat, and we talked. Over dinner he told me that he was married, and that he had four children.
It had been 21 years since we last saw each other. It was very nice to see him again. We exchanged phone numbers.
But soon after, I had to cut off his phone number. I had to understand that he was married. It was not easy, but it was the best and the right decision. I do not regret making this final decision, and I am very happy.
Even though life without them goes on, the first love cannot be forgotten.