My First Love…

       Not even my sexy boss can get me past the fact that it’s Friday… I’m ecstatic..

       I was 14 years old. Walking the mall with my “cousin” the summer before going into the 10th grade. She spotted “J,” one of the popular guys from her middle school (junior high to some of you) and stopped to talk. J and I got introduced and I didn’t think much of it. I noticed that he had a high top fade (remember those) and went so far as to have the Kwame’ “rock the polka dot forever” dot in the middle of his hair. That’s what I remember about J the day that we met. My cousin finished talking to him and we went our separate ways. And I didn’t think much about that chance meeting.

       Until the first day of school.

    I was sitting on the bleachers in the gym. It was P.E. and everyone that had P.E. that period was in the gym waiting for their teacher to claim them.

    And I saw him. Staring at me….

    So I stared back.

    I’m not gonna lie, I still remember it to this day. I remember my “take a picture, it’ll last longer” face that quickly turned into the “don’t I know you from someplace” face. He moved in slow motion towards me and came over and sat down.

    We were together by the end of the week.

    Now, for a chick that didn’t really like the spotlight, dating (if you could call it that) one of the “well-known” boys in school took some getting used to. Everyone knew him. So by extension, everyone knew me. Now that I think about it, I couldn’t get away with ANYTHING! But I was so naive (imagine that) and shy that I wasn’t trying to sneak. I only had eyes for J.

   One day J was walking me to class and his friend Mike came up beside us. And asked if I was the ass of the week (he said it differently, but I knew what he meant) and J said “nah man, that’s my lady.” And I blushed for the rest of the week.

   And before I knew it, I was in love.

   I mean, it was literally a teenage love. I’m talking the holding my books, walking me home, getting caught by my mother type of love. The writing notes between classes and holding hands type of love. The “mom picking up the phone and yelling ‘NICK'” while I was sweet talking type. Yes, it was serious.

   Sneaking out the house to hang with him and the fellas. Sitting on his lap in the back of his cousin’s Diamante’ kissing him at the stop lights. Skipping school to hang out at his house KNOWING that the bus to get me home only ran once an hour. (that bus effed up my life) I was filled with happiness because even though I was in baggy pants and Nike sneakers, J loved me. And I didn’t realize until I got older how much I would appreciate a man that said he loved me without me giving up the ass.

    But J came with another side. I knew the sweet guy, the one that I would kiss in the staircase. The one that introduced reggae to me and called me “white” for listening to The Bee Gees. I didn’t know the side that would catch wind that the football player in my English class liked me and fight him outside the weight room. I remember holding  his bookbag hoping that no one’s face got bashed in. And after years of seeing my father beat my mother, I knew what I wouldn’t handle. I put his bookbag down and calmly walked to get the bus. I left them to it.

   I’d love to say that was the day that J and I broke up, because at least then, I would have some clear definition of when it happened. But the truth of the matter is that we both don’t know how we broke up, or why. We tried to make it work in the 11th and 12th grade, but it just didn’t click. We’ve talked about this fact as nauseum.

  We lost touch when J got kicked out of school. Then graduation and jobs and “life.”

    And then I get a phone call.

    “Ms. _______” came out at me from the other end. And my heart skipped. I’d know that voice anywhere, and it still made me feel like that 15 year old with the Jansport bookbag. He would slip in and out of my life regularly. One day I’d get the call from California, the next time, it was Japan. No matter where I was, he would find me. (which I could never figure out)

   Fast forward 17 years later. The thought of J still makes me smile. Maybe it’s because he reminds of a time of innocence (corny line) and my being young and naive. We all know I like to get nostalgic, so maybe that’s it. Or maybe, he just happens to be my first true love. I’ve told him that he’ll always have a place in my heart and he’s told me the same. He’s the first guy I’ve ever felt safe with. And even as the years go by, I relish that feeling.

   Now, I’d love to tell you that I don’t know where he is, buecause that’ll make it even more romantic, but J and I still keep in touch. Every now and then, I’ll go by his house and we’ll stay up all night talking, remembering the good ole days. I would be going through something with my boyfriend and call J. And I remember us talking on opposite ends of his couch, then waking up the next morning with his head on my chest. I’ve already gone over word count in this post and I still haven’t told you everything.. But I will say this..

    My first true love makes me smile.

    I’d love to believe that everyone’s had one (by now) so share…
   Peace and Love, Nick 

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Comments
4 Responses to “My First Love…”
  1. CHeeKZ Money says:

    all I can think about is how damn old you are LMAO. I’m sorry….

    High top fads in middle school?! Damn you old. My god you are like a history book. Sorry just kidding…

    I’ll be honest, I use to be like J. I felt so strongly about my first love, was patient with her innocence. Listened. I really enjoyed being a great boyfriend. But it all feels kinda worthless now. B/C while I loved her and really gave everything I could, I kinda feel like girl that age, with that level of innocence, can’t give back what men really need.

    Man I don’t know how to say it all articulate and ish. But as a naive 17 year old boy, I think I had the ability to give any women everything she wanted in a relationship. Someone to listen to her, respect her, cherish, someone to grow as a person with… all the things that b!tches want. You would probably enjoy being in a relationship more with 17 year old CHeeKZ more than 27 (17 year old had a bigger d1ck) But these young girls can’t give these young bols the kind of loving back. Atelast not the grown woman loving. Feels like for all the talk about how much faster girls mature we forget that these girls are more selfish than boys and that reflects in the relationship……… whatever. Don’t listen to me. I am just going off on a tangent b/c I am starting to realize that my first love really isn’t someone that was worth loving. Despite the fact that I waited and loved her well.

    I don’t know how these women can make such a big deal who they sleep with (numbers, and virginity and letting the wrong guys hit) than turn right around and NOT let the right guys hit. I am going to be upset by this until the day I die. Never getting over it. Ever.

  2. max says:

    Girl you already know. My first love was epic. I’m getting choked up just thinking about him and I sleep with a picture of him under my pillow.

  3. Starita34 says:

    Beautiful Nick, great story.

    I go over and over all the time if my first “love” was truly a love or simply a teenage obsession; but I’ve resigned myself to the idea that we loved as much as two children could. He was a great guy, I’m proud that he was my first, although not too proud of how I ended it. The time that we were together was cool. I was so young that he didn’t really shape my life in the way that J and you seemed to shape each other, but he’ll always be my first. And I’ll always remember the taste of his mouth and the scent of his Iron cologne. ❤

    He's very successful with a gorgeous wife and son now…I can't eem lie, seeing him on FB made me do the whole "what if" in my mind…

  4. Qiana McKoy says:

    this was such a great post! It definitely took me back to my first love…or I guess what my 13 year old heart thought was love. He was so many things to me…and looking back on it all now, I don’t think I would have changed anything. He gave me my first experience with love. We kept in touch as we got older, and the person he grew into was totally different than the boy I loved in my burgundy and gray uniforms and Reebok Princess sneakers. He’s married now and has two beautiful daughters.

    Awww…first loves…

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