Decades Later, I Still Feel a Great Affection Towards My Teenage Love

He was one of my best friends and we had a connection that has never been lost

I was sixteen years old when I started my street-trading profession.

By trial and error, my friend and I had taught ourselves how to make “hair-wraps” using coloured threads, wrapped around strands of hair in pretty patterns. After doing them in the hair of friends, their parents, and my teachers, I took it onto the street in Oxford City Centre and began my first business enterprise.

That summer, when I turned seventeen, was one of the most incredible summers of my life. I met so many interesting people — fellow street traders, performers and artists, students, and young people working in local businesses.

One of those was a guy called Matt who had just finished school and was saving up to go travelling.

He was a strawberry blonde with too much energy and a huge smile. He worked in the Häagen-Dazs ice cream shop and would come out to chat with my friend and me during his lunch hour each day.

Soon enough, he was bringing out tasters of ice cream for us and we weren’t complaining. I started to look forward immensely to him appearing and it wasn’t only because of the free ice cream. I was starting to fall for him big time.

It turned out the feeling was mutual

Soon enough, we started dating.

He had a circle of close friends, all female. Other than feeling envious of the very close relationships he had with these girls, and feeling somewhat ‘less-than’ in comparison, I was not threatened at all by them. And he had a certain effeminate way about him that made it feel quite natural for his best friends to be women.

I loved the fact that they welcomed me so warmly into their friendship circle and that we all had such fun together.

However, the fling did not last more than a few weeks that summer, for Matt was leaving to travel on his gap year post-school, and didn’t want any ties with anyone back home.

I felt a little hurt and sad but I understood.

But there was another thing that he wanted to tell me.

He wanted to be fully transparent and open with me. What he had to say wasn’t the easiest.

He shared with me that he also liked men as well as women and that he wanted to explore relationships with other men.

It was this piece of news that made me feel that our fling was just a bit of fun and nothing more. I was sad that I hadn’t meant enough to him to want to stick around with me for longer but I understood that he had desires and an untapped world to explore.

Meanwhile, I had my last year of school to complete and I really wanted to do well. So I accepted my lot and was grateful not to have the distraction of a relationship.

Matt went off on his travels and I was left to continue my studies and move on.

It was late winter when a knock came on the door.

I opened it and there, back from his travels, stood Matt on the doorstep wearing his enticing big smile. It became even bigger when he saw my surprise at seeing him there.

He came in and I made us coffee while he talked nineteen-to-the-dozen about all of his adventures of travelling across Europe as far as Turkey. He was truly excited and I was able to share with him that my best friend, Lisa, and I were also planning to take a gap year to travel. He was over the moon to hear that and seemed almost envious when I told him that we planned to go to India.

That visit was the first of many over the following months.

We would always drink coffee and chat endlessly. As the weather grew warmer, we would lay on the grass, idling the afternoons away and talking about everything under the sun. We were never short of conversation since we had very similar interests — theatre, books, and music being the main ones — and we were at immense ease around one another.

I never asked him about any relationships he may have had since our fling the previous summer and he never volunteered to tell me anything.

Our ability to simply hang out so easily felt so good but, since his confession to me about wanting to explore his homosexual desires, I never considered him again to be a potential lover. He was a friend. A good friend. Perhaps, even, a best friend of sorts because I felt like I could tell him anything at all — more, even, than my best female friend.

A kiss out of the blue

One weekend that summer, soon after I had finished my exams, he came over for the evening.

We were going to have some drinks together and he would be staying the night. In the spare room, of course.

We chatted, we laughed, we played some games and we drank. Not to any extreme, since neither of us cared much for that. We simply enjoyed a little intoxication.

As the evening wore on and felt like it was coming to a natural end, out of the blue, he planted a kiss on my lips. I had no idea it was about to happen and it took me by surprise, but I put up no resistance.

Whatever I silently communicated at that moment, he declared that he had been wondering if the feelings he had for me were mutual and now he knew they were. I didn’t tell him otherwise because, for one, I was still bewildered, having believed we were just very good friends, and, secondly, I realised I did have feelings. I just didn’t know it until now. Or perhaps I had simply buried them since he ended it between us the previous summer.

From that moment on, although I was still somewhat taken aback by the change in circumstances, we were glued to one another.

We spent the summer in one another’s pockets — I was back to my hair-wrapping enterprise and he had another job in Oxford City Centre, this time in a sandwich bar. And the sandwiches were really good…especially the free ones!

At the end of the summer, things went a little bit strange. First, I achieved much higher grades than he had in our shared subject areas and there was some jealousy. And then I went off on my own travels with my friend, Lisa, while he continued to work and save money to come and join us to travel together to India.

Things were strained until he finally arrived in Israel, a week or so before we would set off for Bombay, and for the first few weeks of being back together. But then, we slipped into something lovely.

We were at such ease with one another, it made travelling together beautifully effortless. And, of course, we resumed our intimacy during those months.

However, when we returned from our travels, we realised that, in many ways, we had grown apart and found our own paths.

We were both due to be starting university in the autumn — different universities although both in or close to London — and it felt like the right thing to put the lid on our time as a couple.

I was really sad to say goodbye to him as a lover and he left a huge gap in my life. But, slowly, my life reshaped itself without him.

As we both began our new university courses, we occasionally met up. During those meetings, we realised just how close we still felt, and how strong our friendship was — without the romantic feelings.

In the years following our university degrees, we both went in different directions and lost touch.

Years later, I searched for, and found him, on Facebook, and reached out. We reconnected and chatted with the same intensity and affection of the old friends we were. That has continued on and off over the years.

We haven’t seen one another because he was living in Thailand and is now in Australia.

However, whenever we chat over Messenger, I still feel the mutual respect and admiration we have for one another and we still talk like old friends. He tells me about his parents, the struggles he has had, and the man he eventually married.

We still talk about our dreams and aspirations, and he never fails to encourage and compliment me in the same way he always did. In the same way, I am immensely proud of him for achieving a doctorate in Theatre Studies and doing incredible community theatre work across southeast Asia.

And, I have made him promise that when he does return to visit the UK, he will come and visit me since there are many years of those idle, unceasing conversations to catch up on.

I guess some people will always remain special, no matter how many years pass or the different paths we take.

This was written in response to Michele Maize (The Sober Vegan Yogi)’s request to “Tell Me About Your First Love.”

So, there you go, Michele. Although he was actually my second. My first I wrote about here:

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