Love
Stories Love stories , love quotes, love songs and a collection of peoples first love story. |
First loves never die
They say girls mature faster than boys. That is never more evident than in an 8th grade classroom. The girls were all about make-up and weekend plans, the boys were all about comic books and “Dungeons and Dragons.” Charles and I had math together, and due to the seating arrangement, he was surrounded by me and two of my girlfriends. We teased Charles, pinched his cheeks, and told him how adorable he was. He joked back, always having something witty to say, but was very shy and unsure of himself. I never gave him much thought as an actual BOY, but just as a buddy in math class. The last day of school we all passed around yearbooks for signing. Everyone always wrote just about the same thing, which didn’t matter, it was really just the prestige of having a zillion signatures to show how popular you were. When I gave Charles my book to sign, he kept it through the entire half hour study period, and went and sat in a corner with his back to me as he wrote. When the bell rang and we all prepared to leave, he handed the book back and beat a hasty retreat out the door, never looking me in the eye. I wondered what he could’ve said that had taken so long to write, and expected to find a really lengthy entry. Instead, I found this: Lisa, You’re pretty nice, Charles Okay, it wasn’t poetry, but it made me look at him in a whole new way. I found myself thinking about him a lot that summer. When school started again, I found that he had “blossomed” into this really cool guy, and suddenly all the girls were interested. Not knowing what to do with the competition, I settled on just being his friend, hoping one day for a chance at more. We always had at least one class together, and dated a few times our sophomore and junior years, once getting so hot and heavy in the back seat during a downpour that I would have gladly given him my virginity, which I had guarded very carefully from the other boys who had hoped to get it. Instead, he said we shouldn’t get carried away, so we opted for four hours of heavy necking instead. The next year we each lost our virginity to other people. I wish we would have gone through with it that one rainy night, but at the time we couldn’t have known how important it would have been. The summer before senior year we finally succumbed to the inevitable. We were attached at the hip, best friends, lovers, confidants and partners in crime. Thirteen years later we are now happily married, and he can still make my knees weak by simply saying my name. Although we have been through trials and tribulations during those years, some causing us to part for weeks or even a few months at a time, we always found each other again. We always knew we would be together forever. I used to struggle with that, wondering why it was that some people searched most of their lives for their soul-mates and yet I had found mine as soon as I was of the age to realize boys weren’t “gross” anymore. It seemed too easy, and I thought for sure it would all end. I don’t feel that way anymore. Now I just feel lucky. Really, really lucky.
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