Jennifer LeBrecque at The Soapbox Queens blogged about meeting her husband a couple of days ago and, of course, it got me thinking about how my husband and I met. Unfortunately, it’s not a very exciting story. We met at a bar and he tried to pick me up. I was seeing someone and, as arrogant men often do, my now hubby tried to persuade me that I’d be better off with him, blah, blah, blah. I was soo not impressed. Yet, three weeks and a broken heart later, I called him and the rest is history. I’ll spare you the sordid details–honestly, it wasn’t pretty– and just get to what I’m actually going to talk about today.
First loves.
We all have one. Or at least I hope we all do. If it wasn’t “love”, we probably at least have someone in our pasts that touched us somehow. So much so that years later we remember all the sordid details–hopefully bad ones in a good way, if you know what I mean–like it just happened yesterday.
I have two first loves. I say that because I’m not really sure that I loved number one, but he was definitely a big part of my life and, since he oh so cleverly weaseled his way into my shorts and pink butterfly panties at an age I’m way to embarrassed to share, I pretty much have to include him in my trip down memory lane.
His name was John and we lived only a few miles apart by highway, even less by the dirt backroad that ran through the woods behind my house. On this dirt road was a cabin that no one ever seemed to visit. In the front yard of that cabin was a detached, screened porch-like building with a swing and whatnot. That little building was never locked. And neither were my legs. I gave it up on the floor next to the swing like a shaky, on-the-wagon alcoholic at a keg party. Of course, it sucked and I ended it before it even really started, but I was ruined nonetheless.
Two years later, I met my true first love. The one whose name still gives me butterflies to this day, some 15 years laters (don’t do the math if you know how old I am…you’ll never think of me the same LOL). His name was Jason, he was two years older, from the “wrong side of the tracks”, and he wanted me bad. Unfortunately, I was too young and too smitten to think to play hard to get or anything (obviously, given the whole porch floor incident). We passed notes via friends (you know, the ones folded and tucked like triangles?) and eventually we were a hot item. He lived only a few blocks from our school, so naturally, in between school and games, I started to hang out at his place and, needless to say, “things” happened only a few weeks into our relationship. We had to bide our time, right? :) We ended up dating for almost three years. Around two and a half years, the summer before his senior year, he joined the National Guard and left for basic training. Despite nearly daily letters and weekly phone calls, I eventually grew bored and started seeing someone else. Jason came home heartbroken and despite our efforts to fix what I broke, we didn’t last and he ended up cheating on me with his now wife. Talk about getting what you deserve, right?
You’d think the story would have ended there, but, haha, not even close. Since the point of this post is first love and the first time, I’ll summarize the following two years by saying that Jason and I had a hard time keeping away from each other and often used each other when we were either between relationships (me) or fighting with our other half (him). Two weeks before my family moved (a month before I left for college), he started calling again and even showing up at my house after his second shift job. But I couldn’t be the “other woman” anymore, so, after a lot of tears and hours of talking, we finally called it quits for good. (A month later, his girlfriend was pregnant, so my guess is, he got from her what he didn’t from me LOL)
So, now that I’ve given you way more information about my life than I’m sure you ever wanted to know, why don’t you share the scoop on your first love and/or your first time. Don’t pretend that my story hasn’t gotten you thinking about him (or her) and don’t pretend you don’t love rehashing it. 
Happy weekend…
Ally
) as Jennifer Crusie’s. 
A thousand words, or so the saying goes. I am infamous for daydreaming when I am at work. A friend brought a picture in for me, and I have to admit that I can’t think of a better way to do it than staring at this face all day….
MJ
Ally
