I don't pretend to ever have been in love. I'm 21 years old and I can barely commit to a major for long enough to graduate (psychology stuck mostly because UF stops allowing you to change after a certain point in your degree). So I think it's safe to say my first love was probably an animal, or an inanimate object that I wouldn't leave behind.
If you can love something inanimate, I will give my first love to the sheepskin blanket I was given when I was a baby. For some reason, instead of liking the wool side, I liked the scratchy other side better, which years later I would say was because it gets cold. Each edge of the blanket had a different feel, and there was one side I preferred to all the others. I remember times in life thinking I was too old to sleep with it anymore, and breaking that habit. The first summer I was at camp I cut a small corner off to carry around with me (which I immediately regretted). But even without the constant companionship of the blanket, I know that if anything were to happen to it I would be devastated.
So I guess that's love. I'll see if I can find a picture anywhere to add to this.