My First Love

I don’t know how to describe my first love, or if you would even call it “love” at all. My first high school boyfriend, let’s call him Henry for the sake of this post (and obviously not his real name), was an interesting relationship.

I was in Grade 8 at the time. How I learned that he “liked” me, I have no clue. (I honestly don’t remember!) He was a year older than me, but a grade behind. I would talk to him on the phone how hours after I was suppose to be sleeping and visit him during my lunch break. It was a weird high school relationship to say the least.

I remember once while we were talking on the phone one night, Henry asked me to say “the magic words.” I had no idea what he was talking about, so all I’m thinking is “Please” and “Thank You”. I guess he wanted me to tell him that I loved him, so I did. But did it feel like love? No, not really.

We dated on and off for at least a couple years I think. I really liked him, so I ignored the fact that he was really, actually, a loser. He went to the “bad kids” school, smoked, drank, did drugs and didn’t have a job. I’m pretty sure he even cheated on me. Thinking back, I really don’t know why I was attracted to him!

So that’s the story of my first “love”, or at least the story of the first time I said the “L” word. Sad, but true.

Tomorrow: My parents