Posted in Blogging, Writing

Day 19: Writing Challenge

Day 19: Writing Challenge Discuss Your First Love

My Basis For Love–

When I was younger I was “in-love” with the idea of being “in-love.” I romanticized the perfect relationship. Prince charming would come swoop me away on his charming steed, and we would live happily ever after like in those fairy tales my mother read me. We would live in one of those extravagant houses with a picket fence instead of a moat– not realistic. Have a couple of children. Never fall out of love because the fire from the spark would never die. That doesn’t happen when you are made for each other!

I had a lot to learn.

First Relationship–

My first ever relationship was with my best friend up the street. We played in the woods with other neighborhood children, rode bikes, played video games, and spoke on the phone.

His mom wasn’t my biggest fan, but we still hung out a lot.

I remember it happening in one of those “do you like me” notes– Check “yes or no?”  I could have totally wrote the song. Except it didn’t end on a good note. We had an experimental relationship based on what we thought was love, and no at sixteen I wasn’t doing “that!”

I felt like I had to rescue him from drugs. In the end, he was a jerk that ended up cheating on me, which led to me meeting my first actual love, but we remained friends for a while. His mother sent him to live with his dad a state away.

It didn’t help him. 

First Real Relationship–

The relationship I had with my best friend up the street helped prepare me for my first actual relationship. I would have never met the guy if he wasn’t a cheating bastard. Not that I am thanking him for it because this relationship wouldn’t end well either. However, they were learning experiences to prepare me for the real thing.

I met this guy through a friend. Five years older– it was appealing. It meant he had life experiences I didn’t have. It made him interesting.

He met me with his friend at my bus stop one morning. Other kids were around. I know how creeper that sounds now. What guy goes to a bus stop to pick up chicks!?

No, my mother didn’t know. Obviously. 

We talked on the phone, a lot. What teenage girl doesn’t like to do that! It is the best way to get to know a person. Even though I was up at 3-4 am on the phone, I still went to school.

At first, he didn’t want to date me because of my age. Sensible. But then, I interrupted his plans. When he canceled on me the first time we were supposed to hang out because he was “sick,’ I brought him something from the mall.

We were inseparable after that. He had problems. More problems than I had. But I gave him the best advice I could with teenager wisdom.

He was a mess. Into some bad things. Going down a bad path.

I felt like I should help. Eventually he cleaned his act up because I made him. He started working, and staying out of the bad stuff. Like drinking all the time. 

We started doing things with his family, and mine. His family accepted me, and it made it easy to help him. My family took him in also, and my grandmother loved him. For awhile, everything was peaceful.

But he had streaks of jealousy, he couldn’t trust. He didn’t have it in him. I couldn’t talk to anyone without him asking who I was talking to. He was paranoid about everything.

He said he was “screwed over too many times.” So automatically he assumed I would do the same. It was hard to talk to any of my friends without him there.

Couldn’t go anywhere alone. We worked together. So everywhere we went… we went together. 

Even though I felt like he was very much a part of me, I felt like he was isolating me. Like he had broken me in half. Yes, we had fun. We laughed. Had a great time. But the bad parts started to outweigh the good. 

I felt like I couldn’t be myself. Because there was no “me” anymore. There was just “us.”  I felt smothered. I couldn’t breathe. 

Sometimes he told me he had people “watching” me and “recording” stuff. Trying to catch me in lies I didn’t tell, and we would fight. I didn’t know until the end, but he was cheating on me with his sister’s friend.

And she was a bucket of nasty…

I did forgive him for it. He was sorry and we were together for almost five years. We broke up, and got back together a couple of times. But the last time was when he after he cheated, and I said I was going to college. I needed to be free.

And he let me go.

I didn’t think it would ever happen. Because we always found a path back to each other. But it wasn’t meant to be.

The Keeper–

I met “the keeper” three times over the course of my life, but I didn’t know he would mean so much to me then. Even now, it is surprising to me to think about how much we have grown over the years. How much we have endured.

If you sit back and think about your life, it is amazing how it works out. We met as children, as teenagers, and as people passing in a restaurant.

Before I met my husband, I was married and divorced. I was a single-mom. Alone for a year and a half when we met for our first date.

When he came into my life, he was a big-kid. Carefree. Responsibility wasn’t his thing. But he worked. He didn’t do drugs. Could leave the drinking. After my previous two relationships, the last two made the difference.

{I needed that. I tend to see the good in people, and the bad.. well. I try to help, and it was getting me into trouble. No, I never did anything bad myself. Just fell in love with some characters. I needed a good guy. }

When he picked me up at my door, I remember looking into his eyes. Like the ocean on a calm day. Though he was handsome, I didn’t care anything about that. He made me laugh. For being married and divorced, I was going for something different. I was looking beneath the surface. 

We would grow together over the years. Sometimes moving in the same direction. Other times apart. Though a constant force pushes us together– closer.  Love.

He isn’t always affectionate. Not like how others have shown affection in the past, but when he is I know he means it. I know his intentions. It flows from his heart.

Occasionally, I wish he could be more affectionate. But being the awesome wife I am, I forgive him for his absent-mindedness. Like he forgives me.

I don’t need to be smothered in affection to know he loves me. I find my needs are different as an adult than they were as a teenager. I’ve matured.

I don’t have to be groping him in public so everyone knows how much I love him. It’s cool. We both know. 

It is the little things that matter.

When I see him playing with our children being an awesome dad, my heart skips a beat. And I fall in love all over again. He is good with those things.

He is good at making me smile when I don’t want to. Especially when I am mad. Or if I am having a shitty day.

Because that is what love is. 

It isn’t always the touchy-feely. 

It is the feeling of someone close to you when you are sleeping. Waking up with them next to you, and feeling like you are home.  Until they pass gas… then you want to smother them.

It is being able to be yourself. Because they like you for who you are! In fact, they love you for it!

It is “you,” and “me,” and “us” too. It’s not just about “me” anymore. 

It is trusting someone with your heart. My husband allowed me to go to a funeral where he knew my ex would be. In doing this, he trusted me. My ex would have never allowed it.

Seeing my ex the last couple times, I knew I made the right choice. It only solidified the bond I have with my husband. I know the love Jer and I share is a different kind of love. The best kind. The forever kind. 

I don’t need an extravagant house or a picket fence to be happy. Even though a moat would be kinda neat. Just having each other and the kids makes me happy.

Love is falling in and out of love with the same person many times. I have learned this over the course of my marriage, and each time our relationship becomes more intense as we learn more about each other, and grow in ways I didn’t know was possible.

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Author:

Dreamer. Doer. Poet. Writer. Mom. Baker. Lover of Many Things.

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