Wednesday, September 9, 2015

... a look back on love...


Circa 1994?

Sometimes I write about my first “love of my life”. I was little back then. 15 years old. He moved to D.C. from Seattle where he grew up. He was the gothiest boy I had ever met. Three years older than me, I have no idea how my parents ever trusted us. But, they did. And when I look back we were pretty much as good as gold.

We met at a concert of The Cure in D.C. My friend’s dad drove us since we weren’t old enough to drive. He ran out of gas and we had to coast down a hill. I’ll always remember that and how he waited in the car reading a book.

I sat in my friend’s seat accidentally. Really, we bought tickets together but I sat in the seat of her ticket number and for years she reminded me of that because I sat by him… the future “love of my life.” 

My hair, that at the time was halfway down my back, was up in a hat. I always remember how he liked me before seeing my hair. Boys and long hair…sigh. We laughed during the concert. It’s a memory of a memory now but he wrote my name and address on his arm in eyeliner when the ink in the pen ran out. He said, "Now I'll never wash my arm." 

Prom 1992... his hair actually matched my purple dress
Within a week, I received my first letter from him. Those letters back and forth would continue for three years. There were visits, prom, birthday murder mysteries… and graduation when he made a hard choice.

He never had the chance to go to college. A poor boy from a poor family that was somewhat abusive… he talked about rain hitting the tin roof of his family’s trailer. He wanted me to have what he could not. I did; I have had everything I’ve ever wanted within reason. He broke up with me for no reason and I went on to college. 

For years he called my mother to check in on me. I didn't know any of this until 2006 when we reconnected. My mother never said a thing.

Yet, life changes and people grow up and make hard decisions. He made a hard decision to let me grow into me. I fumbled and messed it up. Only in a bad marriage was I able to find him again and reach out to a man who found happiness and even a child.

I’m not exactly pining. I’m remembering happy memories and I’ve shared these with my fella, my current real-life love of my life. 

Through the years, I’ve become Facebook friends with my first fella’s wife. We laugh that we're the same person since we're so similar. But, I watch his kid grow. I read the stories of their life. I never for a moment wish it had been me. We’re happy now in separate places with different people… all is right in the world. 

But today, I read his wife’s Facebook post that he got hurt. He’s okay. But he got hurt doing an activity that he always wanted to do when we were kids. 1989 to 2015. 26 years… but it’s never too late to do what you love and maybe get hurt doing it.

Tonight I’ve had a little wine and soon I have to go to bed so that I can function in our present year. But for a moment, I wanted to think back to being little and loving someone who was so good and precious. If I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can hear him. If I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can remember being 15.  

Speedy recovery, old friend. 

25 comments:

  1. Sigh ... so much sigh ... I adore you, Sharon. I *get* it, totally and completely. Thanks for sharing him with us ... and with me in NOLA.

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    1. I knew you would.

      Thanks for spending NOLA with me TWICE until we go again.

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    1. Thanks! HUG!

      He broke his collarbone, Shawn.

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  3. What a heart warming post. Awwww! I love it.

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  4. I hear you, and I know exactly what you mean.

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    1. Yep. And how in the world did so many years pass.

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    2. It's probably better if we just remember ... instead of doing math and shocking ourselves with the number of years in the elapsed time.

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    3. True. But then I often think of math as evil ;)

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  5. I also have a friend laike that and will -what a coincedence!- meet him this weekend. I'm kind of afraid and kind of anxious...

    I hope your friend gets well soon!

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    1. Wow! Small world... when was the last time you saw him?

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  6. Ah...young love. I still have my first love. I met my hubby when I was 13. We've been married for 26 years. :)

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  7. Good for you. It's always good to remember happy things. :-)

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  8. I'm curious, what did you think of the Cure live? I saw them on the Wish tour early 90s and was sooooo disappointed by them. It has stopped me from ever going to see them again (and I'd actually stayed up all night queuing for that ticket).

    I hope this lovely man recovers swiftly, he sounds like an absolute sweetheart.

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    1. Jane, in 1989 I was 15 years old. I was seated in the nosebleed seats by the hottest 18-yr-old I had ever met and we were in a huge city with tons of goths my own age whom I had never met because I was from a small rural town with my graduating class being comprised of 80% of those with whom I attended pre-school. So did The Cure sound good? To me, they sounded like magic. (Note: I was going to be a dork and write that they sounded Just Like Heaven but even that was too much for me :p )

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    2. Ha! That sounds how I felt the first time I saw The Mission when I was 16 and I thought Simon Hinkler's leather clad ass the finest sight ever known to woman kind. With the Cure I was at the lofty age of 20 in a small venue standing which is never a good position for a five foot woman surrounded by very big goth hair. I get how it must have seemed incredible; just as I forget how when I was a 16 year old goth I had pen pals on actual paper letters with who to discuss the joy of goth, because I was literally the only goth in my village (though my best mate was , and still is, a full on rock chick of the hair metal era).

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    3. ps....I must sort out my open id, I forgot to add, this is Jane from Breaking the Angel. Not that it matters as my blog is on hiatus while I figure out what to do next with both it and my adult life :)

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    4. Ha ha ha yeah if I had been 20 I would have probably eye-rolled a great deal... Or have been off making out and missed the whole show altogether :p

      Oh, pen pals! I had actually real letter pen pals... One guy from Guernsey and a few others I met in the U.S. Those were the days sigh.

      Best of luck figuring out your blog and your life. In the great words of Dr. Seuss, "Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive who is you-er than you!"

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    5. It's 4:30am... Please forgive the typos pre-coffee.

      "Actual pen pals" but actually Grrr

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    6. I just spent a week on a hill top in Scotland navel gazing in the nicest possible way. Seeing the Northern Lights phenomena topped it off. My tutors told me to stop being an anxious crab apple (my words, not theirs) and 'follow the joy'...Now as a goth that seems a little odd, but there is a grain of truth in there. I've been so busy trying to please everybody else and make them proud that I forgot to please myself and it was making what I was doing utterly crap. It's a bit of a wake up call when within 2 days these 2 people had me pegged so utterly and completely. And I know they are right.

      And I can't even see straight before coffee :)

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