I wish it was my second. No, not so that I can know another first. Although, that would be quite nice.
If I was naive to the english language, I would not be able to pull synonyms and metaphors to mask my truth whenever I spoke. I would be naked with each word.
I would be forced to say what I wanted, what I needed. Subtlety would not be within reach. Tact would not be an option, or even I word I understood. A constant directness would exist in the words escaping my lips around those I care for. The lesser synonyms of affection would not be at my disposal.
I could not downplay the first word that came to mind. The truest word that can rise from my core.
If English were my second language…
would I speak of love amor?