30 Day Blog #2
My first love, in great detail, Ok so. My first love. Well here are the basics. His name is Jacob James Plevetsky born May 19th, 1989 in New Jersey. He has a twin brother and a little half-sister. His dad died when he was 1 from diabetes, at only 30 years old. His mom moved them back to Queens near her family and married his dad's best friend who turned out to be a complete jerk who used to hit on both him and his brother and his mother. He had gambling and alcohol problems and finally his mom divorced him. Jake told me one of his earliest memories was peeing in Saadia's playpen. I met Jacob through my friend Anastacia in high school. She wanted to go to Steven's house so I said ok, I thought they would be some geeky ass white kids, but I was wrong. Steven wasn't there but Jake was. I didn't think he was anything special at the time, we flirted a lot, I liked that he was totally staring at me the whole time we were there. Holy smokes, I was a lot more prettier and skinnier then. So he finally told Anastacia to have me call him and I remember calling him for the first time in my bath tub. We talked and it was cool, but it wasn't really until a week I spent with my sister that I really started to like him. I remember him being very charming, as he can be, sometimes he just has this unassuming politeness that really gets you. We stayed up talking till 4 am sometimes, he was completely my opposite, really laid back. So I came back home and we decided to meet at my friend's house and I have never been more nervous in my life to see somebody. What if I thought he was ugly? Oh but he wasn't. That's when we had our first kiss, probably the most amazing first kiss I've ever had. SO a little while passed and that's when I think I demanded he come meet my parents after his protests that he was dirty from hanging out in Canaveral Groves and wasn't wearing a shirt. But he came over anyway and my dad basically drove us around doing errands. That's when I discovered his love for mexican pizza at Taco Bell. My mom instantly didn't like him, because it's pretty apparent he's not whitey mcwhitester. I don't really know what my dad thought. I thought everything was fine and dandy; we hardly saw each other but I felt it was pretty much the norm, but when you grow up like him, your mom lets everyone come over and you do whatever you want, hardly isn't enough. I found out through my friend at school that he was dating some other girl. Well we got into a huge argument over the phone the day I found out my best friend was pregnant and all I remember was me hysterically crying and him saying, "I don't need love, and I don't need you." And as most 14 year olds do, I got over it in about a week when I started dating some other guy. 4th of July came and I was at Anastacia's and who do you know came over. And who do you know talked to me all night. And we were back. I don't remember now what broke us up, but I think we did before he ran away to California.So the next year came around. He fell off a roof at work and had to be flown to a hospital and I was about to die of worry so my friend and I packed us up in her mustang and drove to the hospital to see him. I remember that his gf at the time didn't even come to see him. Promptly afterward, I convinced him she was just a bitch and sometime in August we went to a movie together and stopped by Kay's. Not long after that, he went to rehab after he spent a long time in a bathtub thinking of cutting his wrists. It just goes to show, crack heads can keep their habits on the down low. I was pretty shocked but I was going to support him if he was going to try to help himself. Rehab, was wonderful. It sounds weird, but that has been the Jacob I loved the best. We used to write pages and pages to each other. We'd send pictures and it felt like for once, he really loved me. He wrote me poems and drew me pictures and best of all, he was completely drug free. We'd talk about the M word and he'd always sign his letters with "your husband." And then he got out, and we were happy. One day I met him at the beach and finally feeling like he was the "one" we had sex for the first time. I didn't come out of it feeling more attached, I felt more independent. Like a weight had been lifted. And then, I'm sure as any logical girl who just had sex for the first time would, I thought I might be preggers. I had missed a couple pills that month and my period was a couple days late. Of course, my parents would always listen at my door into my business and they found out, and my mother told me I was promptly going to the gynecologist and she hoped all my guts fell on the floor. My dad Mr. CHRISTIANOFTHEWORLD told me I was going to get an abortion and THAT was the first time I said FUCK YOU to my parents, it was not the last. I was over 14 and I could refuse any medical care I wanted and there was NO WAY I was going to get an abortion. Hell no. So I was pretty shocked when Jacob broke up with me when he found out I was NOT pregnant, you always seem to here about it being the reverse. And life went on, till a couple of months later when I met him at a park to solace him over his new breakup from this crazier chick. So senior year, we started dating again. I was almost 18 and us being really together finally seemed attainable. He went to New York to see his grandparents and make money working for his grandfather, which he did, and sent me a very nice Coach purse for my birthday. And it wasn't a boot leg, I checked. I think we talked about getting married again but I'm not sure, I think he was talking about joining the Air Force at this point. I think we broke up yet again but reunited shortly before the coming summer. I was taking classes at BCC and my parents had no way of knowing where I was in between my class times and he had just gotten his own place so I went there, a LOT. And things were good, we could finally just sit and watch tv together and not worry about my parents calling the cops. But then we started actually spending time together. He was happy as a clam eating Captain Crunch watching movies all day, and I am not a movie person. I had a bad way of arguing and was overall pretty crazy. We got into lots of fights but stayed together. So my 18th birthday came which we spent at his parent's house and got my first tattoo, we always had a saying and thought we'd get something representative of a yin and yang style to represent our different personalities so that's what we did. My foot said True Love with a sun and his said Never Dies with a moon and stars which fit right together into a circle when we put our feet together. I don't remember how long after that but we parted ways again and kept going on and off for a while till I was tired of trying to get him to change his bad habits and realized we were too different. There have been several encounters since then but never talk of a relationship. I've come to accept that he is an attractive guy and that there will always be that "spark" but to remember spontaneous combustion follows. I still see him on occasion and we keep it civil, though everyone says we still fight like an old married couple. I really have no regrets, and I WON'T be covering up my tattoo, it still means something to me and I hope he doesn't get his covered up though he jokes about it a lot. People aren't all bad but sometimes, it's hard to see the good.