First Love/First Heartbreak
I didn't have my first real boyfriend until I was 17 years old. During my high school years, I was involved in a Harry Potter RPG web site (yes, I am a nerd.). I made close friends with a girl there who lived in North Carolina at the time.
One night she invited me to an MSN group chat between me, her, and her best male friend. I instantly felt awkward and a little bit out of place so I was mostly quiet.I didn't really think I was that interesting and I ducked out of the conversation really quick. A few minutes after that, my friend told me that he wanted my e-mail. I didn't really understand why, but hey, what the hell?
For the next couple of weeks we would spend hours on MSN talking. Then we started talking on the phone. There was an obvious attraction and I was falling fast. I think we both were, but a long distance relationship was out of the question. I wanted to be with him so bad, and he with me.
I'm sorry to say that the base of our relationship started off with a lie. It was my fault and it was me channeling my inner 13 year old again. But it was a low move I pulled and was probably, on top of other things, the reason our relationship crumbled. But he fell in love with me and wanted to give a long distance relationship a try. I was so happy. I'd babble to my parents about him constantly. I wanted to meet him more than anything. We devised a plan. It was his junior prom in April. He wanted me to be his date. It was February at the time. It gave us 2 months to convince our parents. That's exactly what I did. My parents were very skeptical. I mean this not only was some random dude I met on the Internet, but he lived in North Carolina. How was this going to work?
After tons of begging, pleading, and getting our moms to talk on the phone, our parents finally conceded. I was in absolute shock. 2 days before his prom, April 7th, 2005, we piled into a car and drove to North Carolina.
We met for the first time at a Japanese Hibachi restaurant on April 8th. He saw me right away, picked me up from the floor and hugged me. Our families got on incredibly well. I didn't want to leave him but knew tomorrow would be another day.
At the hotel I met a few of his friends whom expressed interest in meeting me. I'm still friends with some of them to this day and absolutely adore them.
Prom was amazing. We met hours before and went to the beach to collect seashells and hang out. He wanted to kiss me, but figured it'd be a bad idea since our parents were around. But when we got into our limo, I received my very first kiss. Actually that entire limo ride was just us kissing, ha. But we were 2 kids in love and we didn't care.
At the actual prom I...tried to dance? That part of me hasn't changed much. I can't dance to save my life. It went by quickly and soon I found myself standing in front of my hotel room with him, crying, because I was leaving the next morning.
We saw each other a few more times after that: In the summer at Atlantic Beach, October for my homecoming, December for his birthday, and then in April during his spring break.
We had plans for our future. You know how young love goes. It's your first love and you're going to be together forever. You start looking at wedding dresses, and all of this other shit that you believe will happen because you're in high school and everything is butterflies and unicorns shitting rainbows. You are so caught up in it you forget about the c word: College. What word were you thinking of, potty mouth?
Him going to college in Ohio was out of the question. His parents were concerned that if he went to school in Ohio that I'd be a distraction. So he applied for schools in Pennsylvania. He got denied to those schools and was accepted into Georgia Tech. I had a feeling that shortly after that our relationship would come to an end.
I didn't want to believe it because we were stronger than that. But unfortunately my fears were correct. He broke up with me mid-May, a week before my prom.
I can't even begin to tell you all the weeks I spent sobbing. Naivete kicked in again and I thought maybe if I cried, pleaded, and told him how much I loved him, he'd change his mind. That doesn't work. That just pisses them off.
I'm admitting this now when I couldn't all those years back: I was a crazy bitch during that break up. Holy shit. No wonder we don't talk to each other anymore. I took the break-up hard, to say the least. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am. I don't think he'd believe me, even now.
Everyone's experiences with their first love are different. But given what we had, it was a great experience. Always hold on to those years, if you want to cherish them. You really don't forget your first love (even if you want to). I'm not going to front. If your relationship with your first love was as full of love as mine was, it'll be incredibly difficult to get over. There will be lots of tears. Your friends might get sick of you crying about it all the time. Your family will feel helpless because after all the endless shopping sprees (thanks, mom!) and consoling, it's like they feel they won't be able to do anything.
It's okay to cry. Cry for as long as you want to. I HATED when people told me months later for me to quit it. You know what? They're your emotions and yours alone. If you're sad, cry. If you're angry, punch as many pillows as you can. Beat the shit out of as many zombies as you want to (video games. Please don't beat the shit out of a real zombie.) Eventually, all of that sadness and anger will fade. You will roll out of bed one day, look at your puffy eyes in the mirror and slowly start over. Once you do that, you're on the right track. It takes a while. It may take a shorter while for others who aren't as sensitive as I was. But it'll happen. And you know what? You'll be a better person for it.
With love,
Liv
Song lyric in title: "Sweet Silver Lining" - Kate Voegele
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