Yeah, it’s lame. I know. A single, solitary tear ran down my cheek. And honestly, I couldn’t even really tell you why. Later I can blame it on hormones and being completely and utterly exhausted from pregnancy. And being a mommy. And life.
He got married this weekend. When I saw the initials on his sister-in-law’s Facebook, I knew it was him. Instinctively. And I went back to check later, just to be sure. Not that it’s any big deal. I’m about to have my 3rd baby. I have a completely different life than I did then, one which he wouldn’t even remotely understand, let alone approve of. Not that I care. It’s just all in perspective.
Take a little piece of your heart, they do — those firsts… and I don’t want that piece back.
It was a very strange time in my life. Very difficult and confusing beyond the normal bafflement of growing up. And it affected me more than I realized until I saw the pictures. To have your life turned completely upside down by your family, the family you grew up believing was perfect, is not something that is easy to navigate. To have the one person you dream about and scheme ways to see, to have him notice you and at least let you believe you are worth a shadow of something to them is, at the very least memorable. When life is normal. When it’s not normal and that is the one nice thing in your life, it is slightly more than memorable.
I was 14…
He was the first boy I ever kissed.
And there are parts of me that will never feel older than 14. That still wonder what it would be like to have the fairy tale. That don’t have a clue about life. That needs someone else to be the grownup. That is scared out of their wits. That still has an innocent, romanticized, unjaded view of life.
He’s married now, too.
Yes, I cried. One tear.
Say what you will. Judge me however you must. I had to say it. Let someone else know what happened. It was too important a thing for me not to tell someone.
We only ever went on ‘church dates’. And they weren’t even dates. I just rode in his car. But they were the happiest moments of my 14 year old existence. These moments most likely meant more to me than they did to him. I will never know. It doesn’t even matter. I just hope that with her, he is as happy as we were in my little teen girl dream world.
Once on a field trip, I saw his name painted under a bridge. I got my picture taken in front of it for him. For his birthday, I made an acrostic of his entire name–first, middle, & last–with a Bible verse for each letter. And framed it. At church, we would pass notes to each other when we shook hands. I’m sure everyone was aware of my obsession, embarrassing as that is. They all told me he was too good for me. That he couldn’t possibly have any attraction towards me.
But he kissed me. And I gave him my 14 year old heart.
And 10 years later, I cried when I saw the photo of him kissing his new wife at the altar.