hell. First love, however, not so much hell.
Since it's February, an almost-middle-aged woman's fancy turns to smooshy stuff. Of course, February makes me think of Valentine's Day, but that's a different post. February also makes me wonder how the hell to pronounce it. Feb-u-ary? Feb-ru-ary? Feb-er-ary? I'm just going to call it Feb for short.
When I say first love, I mean that one where I said it and he said it and I knew I meant it and I knew he meant it. Or we meant it as much as we could at that age. I think you know it's first love when you feel like you really have nothing to compare it to. Even when you are older and do the 'in love' thing, at the very least you say, "It's different than when I was with {insert name here}." There are no other names to 'insert here' with the first one.
Mine was Eddie. I was a junior in high school and he was a FRESHMAN!! Hell yeah! I was a cougar in training. (Keri did it FIRST, so there!) Eddie was a friend of my brother's, and since about the second week of school Eddie had been asking me to 'go with' him. That was our term back in the old days for being boyfriend/girlfriend. I kept saying NO because he was younger. He reminded me that he was two grades but only a year and a half younger. What--ever.
The day before my 16th birthday (November 11, 1987), some friends of mine, including my brother and his girl, went to a hayride. It was somewhere near Yale, I think. It was cold and dark and there was a huge bonfire. Pretty damn romantic setting for an almost 16 year old girl in Jasper County. On the hayride, Eddie managed to get a seat next to me. This didn't phase me, since Eddie seemed to always find a way to be where I was. I remember saying my hands were cold and putting them under the hay. The next thing I knew, Eddie was holding my hand asking if that helped. To that cheesy, silly, innocent girl, it sure did help.
Eddie - Valentine's Day 1988
Even our first kiss was something out of an 80s teen movie. It happened the weekend after the hayride. Since he was younger and both of our parents were pretty strict, most of our 'dates' were in a group or at his house or mine. After our first official date, I dropped Eddie off at his parents' house and even walked him to the door - I'm nothing if not a gentleman. Eddie and I were very close to the same height, so as he was walking up the step to his front porch, he stopped and turned around, so he was just slightly higher than I. Then it happened, he leaned down and kissed me...squarely on the chin. I guess he closed his eyes too soon and misjudged the distance. Yes, I kissed him on the first date. I'm easy like that.
The chin kiss broke the tension and made us laugh. Obviously, I won't ever forget it. So, the chin kiss became our 'thing'. You know what I'm talking about; those quirky little inside jokes couples have that separate their lives together from everyone else. Another one of our inside jokes was, "I love you but you're weird." We were hanging out at my house, making out on the couch, and I rubbed noses with him. He looked at me and said, "I love you, but you are WEIRD!" From then on, that's how he said he loved me. He often wrote it at the end of cards and notes. I never had the heart to tell him that he spelled it wrong. He spelled it 'wierd'.
Busted making out!
We 'went together' from November until April. He was going to be my Prom date, but I was a typical teenage shallow girl and developed a crush on a guy from out-of-town who had a driver's license. I remember fussing about that in my head; the fact that Eddie couldn't drive me to the Prom. One day after lunch, we were sitting in the auditorium and Ed asked me why I had been 'wierd' all week. I told him that he was funny and sweet, but that I didn't want him to take me to the Prom. The entire time, I was unwrapping the yarn from his class ring. He didn't even notice. He said, "Prom?! OK, cool! I was afraid you were breaking up with me." I said, "I am." He just looked blankly at me. I handed the ring back to him, kissed him on the cheek (yes, I'm dramatic as hell) and walked away. The end of puppy love.
He was mad at me for a very long time. He returned all the notes I had written him. One day, I opened my locker and there they were. He was still friends with my brother, so I had to see him from time to time, and he always completely ignored me. Only once did he say something downright mean to me. I guess even angry, he couldn't help but be mostly sweet.
That's the way I remember it anyway. That pure, warm, fuzzy love. It's not the kind that sustains a couple through kids and bills and sickness, unless it grows into something bigger and stronger. But damn is it a precious memory.
Eddie didn't speak to me until the night of his high school graduation. I went to a party with some friends and he was there. He walked up to me and started talking as if he'd never stopped. He asked me to go for a ride with him, so we could 'talk'. I agreed. He wanted me to know how much I hurt him, but that he understood and forgave me and that it was "stupid and immature" for him to not at least be my friend. Being older and wiser (2 years out of high school, remember), I thought the entire conversation was silly, but I was glad he was over it.
In order to complete the 80s movie romance, the night had to end the way it did. He took me back to the party, driving too fast and scaring the hell out of me. As we were walking up to the group, he stopped, kissed me on the chin and said, "I love you, but you're still weird." He went back to his friends and I to mine.
A month later, he was dead. He was everyone's Eddie and lots of people knew him better and loved him bigger than I did. But for a brief time in our lives, he was mine and I was his, and we were wierd.
During Feb, the month of smarmy, icky, smooshy, lovey stuff, remember where your love started. I hope it was as lovely as mine with Eddie. I know I see mine through a filter of wistfulness and time...with no hell in sight.
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