There was a boy...
When I was about 13 I had a boyfriend named Jacob. He was a summer school boyfriend. He was 16. My mother would send me to summer school every year to "keep me fresh". He HAD to go to summer school every year to keep from flunking out. He was a bad boy... and I loved every min of it....
He gave me my first kiss. He told me about things grown up people did that I didn't even know was possible. We talked every day on the phone. (A secret kept far away from my mom of course) I can still remember his number. (Or what it was...) My very first boyfriend. Every day after school, he would hold my hand and we would sit under a tree and talk. We talked about nothing. We talked about everything. We talked about what we wanted to be in many years. We talked about our parents. We talked.
Then My mother found out. I cried. He cried. We tried to explain. We told her that we were in love, and that we would run away or kill ourselves if we couldn't be together. It didn't work.
Next summer I met another boy. His name was Shaughn. Shaughn was funny. He could make me laugh about everything. Shaughn didn't care that I was award, or that I didn't have too many friends. Shaughn and I were best friends. Shaughn kissed me at the top of a roller coaster. I forgot where I was. Shaughn helped me learn how to express my anger. Shaughn helped me realize that if you yell aloud while singing Papa Roach... it wouldn't hurt so bad.
Shaughn was the first boy I REALLY loved. Shaughn loved me enough to respect me. He risked getting in trouble just to come and visit me during lonely summer days at the library. Shaughn and I would sit in a quiet corner and he would read to me.
And then my mother found out. I cried. He cried. We tried to explain. We told her that we were in love, and that one day, no matter what she did, we would be together. It didn't work.
When I was 16, I met a boy named John. John was a baseball player. He was a senior. I was a sophomore. He had strong hard muscular arms. He had a soft voice, and an adorable butt. John used to push me up against a locker and put his hand in my blouse... And I never complained. John made me feel things I didn't even know existed. John made my body tingle in ways I didn't know it could. We never really talked about much. Most of our time was spent ducking into and empty classroom/lab room/locker room/library to make out. But I LOVED John. John brought out a roaring part of me that I didn't know existed.
John took me to prom. We had sex. It was horrible.
Then my mom found out. I cried, he cried and we tried to explain. We swore that we would be together someday... And then he left and went to college. We swore we would still stay in touch and that nothing would break us apart... It didn't work.
Years went by and there were boys in between them. But nobody really significant until I turned 18.
That's when I met Stephen. Stephen was a quiet, unassuming man with soft kind eyes and a deep sexy voice. Stephen had a quiet intelligence about him that was never imposing but always stood out. I had known Stephen for quite some time, but I never really thought of him that way. Then we fell in love. We started dating. Then he proposed. We got married. We moved away. We lived together. We fought, we loved, we played, and we were happy. Stephen taught me how to love someone so much your heart could burst.
Then one day something happened. One day we woke up and realized that we were not the happy couple we used to be. That things had changed and we never knew what. We realized that this was real life, and this is all we were going to get. We panicked. We tried to re-affirm that love was all we needed to survive... it didn't work.
Now we sit, looking at each other with love, but also with distrust and fear. Each one fearing (and possibly hoping at the same time) that the other will leave. Each one expecting things to fail as they usually do. Each one fearing that with time we will grow to hate each other. We love each other... but at a distance. We both want to return to the time when all we needed was each other and nothing else mattered... but we are both so bruised we know things will never be the same.
He gave me my first kiss. He told me about things grown up people did that I didn't even know was possible. We talked every day on the phone. (A secret kept far away from my mom of course) I can still remember his number. (Or what it was...) My very first boyfriend. Every day after school, he would hold my hand and we would sit under a tree and talk. We talked about nothing. We talked about everything. We talked about what we wanted to be in many years. We talked about our parents. We talked.
Then My mother found out. I cried. He cried. We tried to explain. We told her that we were in love, and that we would run away or kill ourselves if we couldn't be together. It didn't work.
Next summer I met another boy. His name was Shaughn. Shaughn was funny. He could make me laugh about everything. Shaughn didn't care that I was award, or that I didn't have too many friends. Shaughn and I were best friends. Shaughn kissed me at the top of a roller coaster. I forgot where I was. Shaughn helped me learn how to express my anger. Shaughn helped me realize that if you yell aloud while singing Papa Roach... it wouldn't hurt so bad.
Shaughn was the first boy I REALLY loved. Shaughn loved me enough to respect me. He risked getting in trouble just to come and visit me during lonely summer days at the library. Shaughn and I would sit in a quiet corner and he would read to me.
And then my mother found out. I cried. He cried. We tried to explain. We told her that we were in love, and that one day, no matter what she did, we would be together. It didn't work.
When I was 16, I met a boy named John. John was a baseball player. He was a senior. I was a sophomore. He had strong hard muscular arms. He had a soft voice, and an adorable butt. John used to push me up against a locker and put his hand in my blouse... And I never complained. John made me feel things I didn't even know existed. John made my body tingle in ways I didn't know it could. We never really talked about much. Most of our time was spent ducking into and empty classroom/lab room/locker room/library to make out. But I LOVED John. John brought out a roaring part of me that I didn't know existed.
John took me to prom. We had sex. It was horrible.
Then my mom found out. I cried, he cried and we tried to explain. We swore that we would be together someday... And then he left and went to college. We swore we would still stay in touch and that nothing would break us apart... It didn't work.
Years went by and there were boys in between them. But nobody really significant until I turned 18.
That's when I met Stephen. Stephen was a quiet, unassuming man with soft kind eyes and a deep sexy voice. Stephen had a quiet intelligence about him that was never imposing but always stood out. I had known Stephen for quite some time, but I never really thought of him that way. Then we fell in love. We started dating. Then he proposed. We got married. We moved away. We lived together. We fought, we loved, we played, and we were happy. Stephen taught me how to love someone so much your heart could burst.
Then one day something happened. One day we woke up and realized that we were not the happy couple we used to be. That things had changed and we never knew what. We realized that this was real life, and this is all we were going to get. We panicked. We tried to re-affirm that love was all we needed to survive... it didn't work.
Now we sit, looking at each other with love, but also with distrust and fear. Each one fearing (and possibly hoping at the same time) that the other will leave. Each one expecting things to fail as they usually do. Each one fearing that with time we will grow to hate each other. We love each other... but at a distance. We both want to return to the time when all we needed was each other and nothing else mattered... but we are both so bruised we know things will never be the same.