Thursday, July 21, 2011

First Love

Oh man, okay so here it goes.  Today's topic is about first love.  My first love came about when I was sixteen years old.  As I look back on it, I'm not entirely sure why I cared so deeply for him.  Everyone told me he was a bad guy but I defended him to the end.  He was cute, in an awkward, crooked teeth, red-headed way. But to me he was the cutest boy I'd ever seen and the only boy I ever wanted...at least at the time.

I was  bit wayward in my youth so he and I met at a party in which I got so drunk I passed out on his friend's filthy disgusting mattress.  He stayed with me until I fell asleep then left to his apartment which was up the stairs.  As a sidetone, when his friend moved out and we moved said mattress, there were maggots living underneath it.  Yep, it was basically a disgusting flop house.  But hey I was only a kid.

So the guy, let's call him Ginger for his red hair, and I flirted for a couple weeks.  All I wanted was for him to ask me out.  He had a reputation as a player but spent every day with him so I knew it was all exaggeration.  After about two or three weeks, he finally asked me out in the backseat of my best friend's car.  It was magical....or at least so I thought at the time.  I think it went more like, "Hey, we should go out." Me: (SWOON) Yes!  Then I believe we drank a fifth of Vodka and ended up coffee camping at Denny's.  Not exactly the stuff dreams are made of...

So we dated for I think about three or four months.  Not totally sure of the timeline.  As you can see, my memory was alcohol induced.  How did it all end you ask?  Well, first three of my best friends died in a car accident.  It was the absolute worst thing that has ever happened to me and it still hurts to this day despite over a decade elapsing.  At a time when a boyfriend should be comforting and close to his girlfriend, Ginger would break up with me then about an hour later would apologize only to do the same thing over and over the next day.  It was a turbulent roller coaster of a relationship.

The final nail in our coffin came one night when I was home and I got a phone call.  It was Ginger's ex-girlfriend who had actually moved into his apartment with his parents.  She had been thrown out of her house so they took her in.  After all, Ginger had dated her for two years so she was close with his family.  I never questioned the arrangement because I thought he was the most charitable guy ever.  Of course I still very much hated her, going as far as to steal her sweatshirt, graffiti it and wear it all over town. Well, Ginger's ex informed me that she was pregnant.  At first, I didn't understand why she was telling me this.  Then I realized that she was telling me because she was pregnant with Ginger's baby.  I felt like all the air was sucked out of me.

Yep, my boyfriend had his ex-girlfriend call me to break up with me for him because he'd been cheating on me the whole time and knocked her up.  This was of course enough for me never to speak to him again...not.  No, later he begged me to take him back, claimed he didn't love his ex but rather me.  Silly sixteen-year-old that I was, I believed him and took him back.  We played the he dumps me then apologizes thing for awhile until he just sorta stopped coming over and I sorta stopped looking for him.  I heard later that he moved somewhere back East.

So there you have it. I was a pathetic lovesick teen and it truly bothers me how dumb I was.  In retrospect, I know he never loved me. (I should have known since his first declaration of love was in a letter he wrote me while he was in Juvenile Hall telling me he loved me and please wait for him. It had all seemed very romantic so I waited.  Every day I stayed home waiting for him to call during Rec Hour. Some days he did, some days he didn't.  When I wrote him back telling him I loved him as well, he never wrote another letter.  I wrote two a day.)  All Ginger really wanted was my money and easy access to booze.

I actually saw him about six years ago.  He now works at the Dollar Store in my hometown.  I've heard he has five kids, two with the same ex, the other three with other women on the East Coast. I was visiting from Film School and ran into him.  For years I'd pondered what I would say or do if I ever saw him again.  None of those witty, biting comments came out.  I just turned bright red and stuttered.  My mom told me I looked white as a ghost.  I then proceeded to vomit in the parking lot.  My mom took me to a bar across the street and got me drunk.  It was the only time I've ever done shots with my mom.

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