“It was do or die, so I kissed her”

Jamil Ahmed, 35, is a musician from London

When Aimée and I first met, my father had just suffered a heart attack, so everything was a blur. I was playing bass onstage at Small World Music Festival, and I looked up and clocked her amazing blue eyes, that black hair and pale skin. She looked like some kind of gorgeous alien. We chatted a little, and after a few months of bumping into each other at gigs and festivals, a mutual friend told me Aimée really liked me. Around that time I slipped a disc; I was in immense pain and had to use a walking stick. Aimée started hanging out at mine, and she was so caring. Five dates in, she was leaving to get her Uber home and I reached over and kissed her, despite my walking stick. Let’s just say she cancelled that taxi. About a month later, I told her I loved her. It just jumped out of my stomach. By New Year, she was my girl. I’d been in two relationships before, but it wasn’t love; I didn’t have a clue about myself. With Aimée, it was real.

We did so many amazing things together but, ultimately, Aimée was still discovering herself, whereas I was already an established musician, and that caused problems. I really connect with female singers. It’s not a sexual thing, just a musical connective energy, but Aimée might have found that hard. We split up after around a year, and I was a mess.

Seeing her again now, I noticed she was glowing. Everything came rushing back. It was do or die, so I kissed her, and she kissed me back. After the date we got some tinned G&Ts and sat outside for hours. I realised all of these feelings were still inside of me – they’d just been reawakened.

Want to be reunited with your first love? Email us at first.love@cosmopolitan.co.uk