Tell Me About Your First Love

I genuinely want to know. Oh, and here’s mine.

“He smiles at me, and I am suddenly seventeen again — the year I realize that love doesn’t follow the rules, the year I understood that nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable.”- Jodi Picoult, ‘My Sister’s Keeper.’

You remember the first time butterflies invaded your body, right? The flutter that takes over your psyche.

Was it real love, puppy love, or maybe a little bit of lust?

Real love? Doubtful but possible.

When I think of my “first love”, I have difficulty discerning whether or not I truly loved him. I thought I did at the time and was utterly shattered when he cheated on me.

As I remember the first time we met in English class, I recall him being confident and relentless with the note passing.

He was stubborn and knew what he wanted.

Kent wasn’t my type. He was dorky but arrogant and popular if that even makes any sense. His personality did draw people in.

He didn’t quit even though I didn’t accept any of his advances. Finally, being properly annoyed as I was, I gave in and went on a date with him.

He was as sweet as can be. There was nothing cocky about him when we were alone.

I mentioned that we should start out as friends but it quickly became more.

He fell hard for me and I went tumbling down along with him.

We were only 17.

I longed to be with him, constantly. I often lied about where I was spending the night so I could stay at his house. Sorry, Mom.

His family owned a corner lot 3-level house on the side of a street, with large stairs going up to the 2nd floor.

His bedroom was pretty much a basement but not at basement level. You had to crawl into his bed, kind of how you crawl into the bed above the driver in an RV.

It was an interesting house, to say the least. What I am getting at is that this house was extremely easy to sneak in and out of.

You couldn’t hear what was going on downstairs.

There was a window leading right out to the sidewalk.

His mom was often out of town after his dad passed away. He had a younger sister but she didn’t care what was going on.

As our relationship progressed, so did our time together. I took any chance I could to hang out with him.

Kent was genuine and treated me with respect. His dad must have taught him right.

He’d cook me dinner in his amazing kitchen and we’d pretend to be married. He would set up a nice placement of food, silverware, and a crafted drink.

Young love — it happened so fast.

He was quite the schmoozer. He was slick.

The mix of dorky and suave ended up snatching my heart. The love letters continued and he always doted on me.

I don’t know what I did to deserve his affection after things started going sideways. It was at this age that I tried drugs for the first time.

I began partying with my friends more than he would have liked. He warned me about the drugs but I had it under control.

I wanted both, him and the partying.

Then, the drug use went haywire and he was not about it. He could see the trouble brewing. He voiced his concerns many times. I thought I was keeping it under wraps but he did not.

He began to confide in others because he was worried about me. Maybe he wanted me to get a bit jealous to reel me back in.

Then one night, I get a call from my friend.

“Jenny is over at Kent’s house. We drove past and it’s just her car outside.”

Jenny was one of my best friends at the time.

I knew it. The speculations were already there before the phone call, so that solidified it. I was scared to go over there but I knew I had to.

As I walked up those large stairs to his 3rd-floor jacuzzi, the nerves came and triggered my anger. I yelled and screamed at them when I found them in the jacuzzi together.

Did I deserve that? Maybe.

Did I deserve to be lied to? Definitely not.

We obviously broke up and didn’t talk to each other until right before we were both headed off to college. He apologized profusely and wanted to stay in touch.

I said, “Fine. Call me.”

I made one trip out to see him in Colorado, where he went to university, but we knew it wouldn’t work out.

I never talked to him again. Isn’t it weird how we are so incredibly close to people and they drop out of your life so easily?

I had a Deja vu moment today that reminded me of him. He really was sweet even though he cheated on me.

We were 17. That’s a good enough excuse for our bad behaviors.

I still smile thinking back on the good days and fun times that we had together.

I don’t usually tag people but whatever! I am today.

I want to hear your first love stories. Let’s spread some love. Maybe you’ll pass it on and then I can hear more!

Natalie Jenny Lane Susan Wheelock Yana Bostongirl Michelle Scorziello Pam Winter Sandy Maximus Deb Groves Harman Heather Paz Lisa S. Gerard Jillian Amatt - Artistic Voyages Sara Burdick Sara Larca

Jump in and if you write your love story, tag me!