Sunday 25 October 2015

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 3

First love and first kiss.

When I dated my first boyfriend at the tender age of 16 I asked a co-worker 'What is love?'.  She told me that if I had to ask then it wasn't love.  I've kept hold of that piece of advice and sadly for the boyfriend said goodbye.

Love is such a difficult thing to quantify, it means different things to different people at different times of their lives.  It changes and grows, sometimes it seems to just want to make you miserable and other times it makes your tummy tickle with joy.

Let's move on - first kiss.  So much easier.  Or it would be if I could remember it.  I promise I'm not emotionally barren.  I think, based on dodgy memories, that my first kiss was with Ryan at a primary school disco.  We danced to Blue Moon.  It was my first boy-girl dance.  I remember he used to wear a cap and have tufty hair and whenever he knocked for me I wasn't allowed out.  It didn't last long.

First love.   I honestly feel like I'm airing my dirty laundry here!!  I think my first love was with a boy called James at my secondary school.  He was several years ahead of me and I whenever I saw him I would feel weak at the knees, blush like mad and stammer like an idiot.  I think we travelled on the same bus or went to the same athletics club so there was an outside of school setting for additional embarrassment on my part.  I'm not convinced he even knew I was alive.

So there we have it, vaguely remembered first kiss - definitely no tongue - and unrequited teenage crush involving our initials in hearts on exercise books.

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