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jadedmusingsDay 02 - Your First Love
One day, when I was in sixth grade, I was hanging out in the library, I think, during some sort of break. It might have been after school while I waited for some activity or other to begin. Either way, there were a couple of eighth graders there as well and one of them was known by someone in my class. About four of us sat down at a table to play a hand of cards, though I think I was more observing. One of the eighth graders caught my eye, mostly because he had black hair and was really pale (you're shocked by this, I know). He was kind of sullen and I suppose I picked up on the fact that he'd suffered at the hands of some popular kids too, but he still managed to be a little funny. I thought he was pretty cool and I found out he'd just moved to town that year, but other than that I didn't learn much about him. I remember this was toward the end of the year, so we got our yearbooks and I found his name mostly out of curiosity, and then, seeing as he went on to the high school and I had two more years before I got there, I kind of put him out of my mind.
Fast-forward to eighth grade. I was able to join the high school marching band when we got a new band director. Now, seeing as I've always been a geek, getting into the marching band had me stoked beyond belief. It was the entire reason I joined band because I'd loved the marching band concept ever since I went to my first high school football game in elementary school. My father would later say I jumped about ten feet off the ground and squealed excitedly when I got a letter in the mail telling me to get ready for band camp. (Why yes, I've always been a dork. Why ever do you ask?)
Anyway, over the course of the season I got to know one of the girls who played the xylophone on the sideline. She was a senior and her brother was a sophomore. Her brother was, you guessed it, that boy I'd been so intrigued by in sixth grade. He'd since let his hair grow out and I heard he was on the yearbook staff, a photographer. (I can hear the chorus of, "Neeeerrrrdssss!" now.) I never saw much of him, but I thought he was kind of cute and was, again, intrigued by him. His sister was totally awesome to me and to this day I miss her. Again, I put him out of my mind because, well, after the marching band season was over, I reverted back to being in the middle school band.
The next year, I was a freshman in high school and our marching band theme that year was Carmen. We performed pieces from the opera and our director found two boys to play the parts of Carmen's two lovers. One of them was Dark-Haired boy with the totally awesome older sister. He was a junior then and, within only a few days' worth of practice, I was completely smitten. We started to get to know one another over time, but so did a senior who played clarinet. I was so crushed the day I learned the two of them were dating. I was friendly with both of them, so I had to let it go, but my crush on him never completely went away. Marching band season ended and I got a little distracted by concert band season and I was on the debate team. (Neeerrrrrrrd!) Still, every now and then we'd run into each other in the bandroom or in the lunchroom, and...yeah, my then best friend would give me this look that said, "Girl, you've got it so bad."
In December, I was invited to the senior's eighteenth birthday party as well as Dark-Haired boy's seventeeth. Their birthdays were within a week of each other's so they just had one joint birthday bash. With my babysitting money, I'd bought him a bracelet he could engrave with whatever he wanted, and I think I got her something similar or some other equally cool present. He seemed thrilled with my gift and the rest of the party was full of awesome with music and overall geeking out. Since there were only a handful of us there (none of us were terribly popular, so it was a tiny group of people), we ended the night by playing a game of tag. I couldn't help but notice that my crush seemed to like going after me a lot, and I got my first hint that he possibly wasn't all that happy with whom he was with at the time.
After that party, I noticed a mark decrease in him being able to talk to me. In fact, if his girlfriend was within earshot, she was immediately by his side and keeping him away from me. And no, I made no move to go after him, though she'd later claim that I continually flirted with him, which maybe I did, if by flirting you mean chatting about band or the yearbook staff.
That year, his girlfriend graduated, and from what I could glean over the summer, they stayed together. My sophomore year rolls around and I'm in band another year (my last year, sadly). Dark-Haired boy wasn't involved in the band, but he was still a photographer on the yearbook staff so he would come by the bandroom on friday nights before football games and snatch photos. Also, his youngest sister was in the band that year, plus he was pals with another person in the band (the same kid who was in my class and knew him in middle school coincidentally enough) so I honestly didn't think much of him hanging around.
One particular Friday night, he came over to talk to me, and I got a little nervous. I mean, I enjoyed the conversation and was thrilled to be talking to him, but I remember kind of looking over my shoulder for his girlfriend. For some reason, I had to go into the band director's office to find something and he followed me in there. We were still chatting in general and then I finally teasingly said, "You better be careful talking to me. [Girlfriend] might get mad at you."
He blinked and then said, "You didn't know we broke up?"
To this day, I'm a little ashamed at just how happy this news made me. I think I managed not to grin like a cruel idiot while I did the whole, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." I do recall going to the girlfriend's younger sister and going, "OMG, did [Girlfriend] and [Boy] really break up?" She gave me this awful look and said, "...yes." Yes, I was a horrible person and I do feel guilty for being happy over someone else's heartbreak, but I was only fifteen at the time, incredibly lonely, and well, a teenager.
For the rest of the night I was completely giddy and excited. Truth be told, I didn't actually believe I'd end up dating him, but there was a chance, no matter how slim it might be.
About a week later, Dark-Haired Boy invited me to his Eagle Scout ceremony. (I know! Just when you think this story can't get any dorkier.) Things were going very well. We chatted afterward and then he walked me to my car...when his now-ex showed up. I remember being so hurt when he said he had to go talk to her, but he did give me a hug before I left and I remember feeling so smug as I walked to my car without so much as looking over my shoulder at her. (I think she'd already been talking dirt behind my back even when they were still dating, so I was a little justified in being a bitch.)
Then, for maybe two weeks, we were in something of a flux. I'd get the idea he wanted to date me one minute and the next there was either drama from the ex or maybe he just wanted to be a friend. Then, finally, one day during lunch in the bandroom, I reached out to grab his arm to get his attention and he sort of stuttered and looked at me. He walked with me on the way to my next class and it was then he admitted he wanted to be more than friends and had for a long, long time. He simply wasn't sure if I had been interested in him. I was completely flustered and told him, "I've wanted to date you for two freaking years!"
And that was the start of my first real relationship. I think it was about two or three months later that I told him I loved him, and about a month later before he responded in kind.
The rest of the story isn't that great. He was my first love, my first kiss, and (eventually) my first awkward petting and groping. We ended up breaking up before the start of my junior year because he was going away to college and, well, he was growing up and I had to stay in my hometown. I was an emotional wreck for months, and he soon broke off contact with me entirely, and I can't say I blame him for it. I was sixteen and I had Issues(TM), but I don't imagine anyone's first heartbreak is easy.
These days, I look back on the story fondly and laugh at how much of a nerd I was. I'm such a different person than I was then (save for the fact I'm still a huge nerd) and I've matured so much. If I were to compare that love to the love I've had since and have now, well, it'd be like comparing a thimble full of water to the Pacific Ocean. It was love, yes, but not the powerful love I've sinced shared with others. He taught me a lot about myself and I learned a lot about love and heartache. Some day maybe he'll get in touch with me and we can laugh at how dorky we were, and maybe he'll teach me some Klingon if he ever got around to learning it. (I told you, he was a nerd too!) Or maybe, after fourteen years, he never even thinks of me or wonders what became of me.
I just hope he's as happy with his love as I am with mine.
The Meme:
Day 01 – Introduction
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – Your physical constitution
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 - Something you feel strongly about
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – Your education
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favourite memory
Day 18 – Your favourite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favourite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment
One day, when I was in sixth grade, I was hanging out in the library, I think, during some sort of break. It might have been after school while I waited for some activity or other to begin. Either way, there were a couple of eighth graders there as well and one of them was known by someone in my class. About four of us sat down at a table to play a hand of cards, though I think I was more observing. One of the eighth graders caught my eye, mostly because he had black hair and was really pale (you're shocked by this, I know). He was kind of sullen and I suppose I picked up on the fact that he'd suffered at the hands of some popular kids too, but he still managed to be a little funny. I thought he was pretty cool and I found out he'd just moved to town that year, but other than that I didn't learn much about him. I remember this was toward the end of the year, so we got our yearbooks and I found his name mostly out of curiosity, and then, seeing as he went on to the high school and I had two more years before I got there, I kind of put him out of my mind.
Fast-forward to eighth grade. I was able to join the high school marching band when we got a new band director. Now, seeing as I've always been a geek, getting into the marching band had me stoked beyond belief. It was the entire reason I joined band because I'd loved the marching band concept ever since I went to my first high school football game in elementary school. My father would later say I jumped about ten feet off the ground and squealed excitedly when I got a letter in the mail telling me to get ready for band camp. (Why yes, I've always been a dork. Why ever do you ask?)
Anyway, over the course of the season I got to know one of the girls who played the xylophone on the sideline. She was a senior and her brother was a sophomore. Her brother was, you guessed it, that boy I'd been so intrigued by in sixth grade. He'd since let his hair grow out and I heard he was on the yearbook staff, a photographer. (I can hear the chorus of, "Neeeerrrrdssss!" now.) I never saw much of him, but I thought he was kind of cute and was, again, intrigued by him. His sister was totally awesome to me and to this day I miss her. Again, I put him out of my mind because, well, after the marching band season was over, I reverted back to being in the middle school band.
The next year, I was a freshman in high school and our marching band theme that year was Carmen. We performed pieces from the opera and our director found two boys to play the parts of Carmen's two lovers. One of them was Dark-Haired boy with the totally awesome older sister. He was a junior then and, within only a few days' worth of practice, I was completely smitten. We started to get to know one another over time, but so did a senior who played clarinet. I was so crushed the day I learned the two of them were dating. I was friendly with both of them, so I had to let it go, but my crush on him never completely went away. Marching band season ended and I got a little distracted by concert band season and I was on the debate team. (Neeerrrrrrrd!) Still, every now and then we'd run into each other in the bandroom or in the lunchroom, and...yeah, my then best friend would give me this look that said, "Girl, you've got it so bad."
In December, I was invited to the senior's eighteenth birthday party as well as Dark-Haired boy's seventeeth. Their birthdays were within a week of each other's so they just had one joint birthday bash. With my babysitting money, I'd bought him a bracelet he could engrave with whatever he wanted, and I think I got her something similar or some other equally cool present. He seemed thrilled with my gift and the rest of the party was full of awesome with music and overall geeking out. Since there were only a handful of us there (none of us were terribly popular, so it was a tiny group of people), we ended the night by playing a game of tag. I couldn't help but notice that my crush seemed to like going after me a lot, and I got my first hint that he possibly wasn't all that happy with whom he was with at the time.
After that party, I noticed a mark decrease in him being able to talk to me. In fact, if his girlfriend was within earshot, she was immediately by his side and keeping him away from me. And no, I made no move to go after him, though she'd later claim that I continually flirted with him, which maybe I did, if by flirting you mean chatting about band or the yearbook staff.
That year, his girlfriend graduated, and from what I could glean over the summer, they stayed together. My sophomore year rolls around and I'm in band another year (my last year, sadly). Dark-Haired boy wasn't involved in the band, but he was still a photographer on the yearbook staff so he would come by the bandroom on friday nights before football games and snatch photos. Also, his youngest sister was in the band that year, plus he was pals with another person in the band (the same kid who was in my class and knew him in middle school coincidentally enough) so I honestly didn't think much of him hanging around.
One particular Friday night, he came over to talk to me, and I got a little nervous. I mean, I enjoyed the conversation and was thrilled to be talking to him, but I remember kind of looking over my shoulder for his girlfriend. For some reason, I had to go into the band director's office to find something and he followed me in there. We were still chatting in general and then I finally teasingly said, "You better be careful talking to me. [Girlfriend] might get mad at you."
He blinked and then said, "You didn't know we broke up?"
To this day, I'm a little ashamed at just how happy this news made me. I think I managed not to grin like a cruel idiot while I did the whole, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." I do recall going to the girlfriend's younger sister and going, "OMG, did [Girlfriend] and [Boy] really break up?" She gave me this awful look and said, "...yes." Yes, I was a horrible person and I do feel guilty for being happy over someone else's heartbreak, but I was only fifteen at the time, incredibly lonely, and well, a teenager.
For the rest of the night I was completely giddy and excited. Truth be told, I didn't actually believe I'd end up dating him, but there was a chance, no matter how slim it might be.
About a week later, Dark-Haired Boy invited me to his Eagle Scout ceremony. (I know! Just when you think this story can't get any dorkier.) Things were going very well. We chatted afterward and then he walked me to my car...when his now-ex showed up. I remember being so hurt when he said he had to go talk to her, but he did give me a hug before I left and I remember feeling so smug as I walked to my car without so much as looking over my shoulder at her. (I think she'd already been talking dirt behind my back even when they were still dating, so I was a little justified in being a bitch.)
Then, for maybe two weeks, we were in something of a flux. I'd get the idea he wanted to date me one minute and the next there was either drama from the ex or maybe he just wanted to be a friend. Then, finally, one day during lunch in the bandroom, I reached out to grab his arm to get his attention and he sort of stuttered and looked at me. He walked with me on the way to my next class and it was then he admitted he wanted to be more than friends and had for a long, long time. He simply wasn't sure if I had been interested in him. I was completely flustered and told him, "I've wanted to date you for two freaking years!"
And that was the start of my first real relationship. I think it was about two or three months later that I told him I loved him, and about a month later before he responded in kind.
The rest of the story isn't that great. He was my first love, my first kiss, and (eventually) my first awkward petting and groping. We ended up breaking up before the start of my junior year because he was going away to college and, well, he was growing up and I had to stay in my hometown. I was an emotional wreck for months, and he soon broke off contact with me entirely, and I can't say I blame him for it. I was sixteen and I had Issues(TM), but I don't imagine anyone's first heartbreak is easy.
These days, I look back on the story fondly and laugh at how much of a nerd I was. I'm such a different person than I was then (save for the fact I'm still a huge nerd) and I've matured so much. If I were to compare that love to the love I've had since and have now, well, it'd be like comparing a thimble full of water to the Pacific Ocean. It was love, yes, but not the powerful love I've sinced shared with others. He taught me a lot about myself and I learned a lot about love and heartache. Some day maybe he'll get in touch with me and we can laugh at how dorky we were, and maybe he'll teach me some Klingon if he ever got around to learning it. (I told you, he was a nerd too!) Or maybe, after fourteen years, he never even thinks of me or wonders what became of me.
I just hope he's as happy with his love as I am with mine.
The Meme:
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – What you ate today
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your day
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A moment
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – Your physical constitution
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 - Something you feel strongly about
Day 13 – This week
Day 14 – Your education
Day 15 – Your dreams
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favourite memory
Day 18 – Your favourite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – This month
Day 21 – Another moment
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – A first
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favourite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your aspirations
Day 30 – One last moment
