My First Love

Writing Challenge Day 3. This should be an interesting one.

My first love’s name was DeShawn. His dad lived next door to my grandmother’s house. I was always at my grandmother’s house, and he was very often at his dad’s. He was tall, light-skinned, and cute in that private school boy sort of way. He was kinda soft, delicate, in that private school boy sort of way. He didn’t hang out with the boys in the neighborhood, mainly because he was only part-time at his dad’s, but also because he was a softie and liked shooting hoops in his backyard and talking to me.

I loved him.

He would come outside and thump the basketball on the ground, occasionally glancing at my house. I would then come out the back door, casually, like, “Oh Hey… I didn’t even see you here. From my window, where I’ve been waiting for hours for you to come outside.”

DeShawn and I would talk about everything. Any and everything. And for us, as 14 year olds, that mostly meant school. We would sometimes talk about music, people we liked, movies we saw. He liked to listen to me, which is still my biggest turn on to this day. Sometimes, I would bring my cello outside and play and he would lean on the fence and listen. (Damn, just remembering that brought a tear to my eye.)

We would both also talk about our dreams. What colleges we would go to, what we would major in. Him: Pre-Law… Me, strangely enough: Pre-Dentistry (it took me a while to find myself.) We would talk about what it would be like when we were grown up and married, not to each other, but we would still be friends, if his future wife liked me.

Our teen love lasted about 3 years almost all of high school. He was my crush, but he was also my best friend.

One day, he said, “Come here… I wanna show you something.” He invited me in the house and closed the door. Then he kissed me. He kissed me with a depth that I don’t think I’ve felt since. It was my first real kiss and it was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. After the kiss, he stood there and looked into my eyes, and told me, “Don’t tell anybody I did that.” Breathlessly, I said, “Ok.” He took my hand and held it as we walked to the bus stop, he was going back to his mom’s. He kissed my cheek and got on the bus.

I wrote him long letters about how much I loved him, and he laughed them off. Eventually, he got a girlfriend on his own side of town, and I got a job at McDonald’s. And, we didn’t see each other as much anymore.

I saw DeShawn years later at St. Andrews. He had on a Versace shirt unbuttoned to his navel. He looked goofy and corny, and danced up to me like, “You remember me?” I was happy to see him, but glad that I would probably never see him again.

It always ends up like that, doesn’t it? The thing you want the most when you are young turns out to be the last thing you actually need.


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