Puppy Love

Do you remember your “first love?” Or, what you thought was love, but later learned it was just a crush, or puppy love as they say? I was about thirteen when I had what I thought was my everything.

We talked on the phone mostly because we lived about twenty minutes apart (by car) and neither of us had a driver’s license. I think he was about fifteen or sixteen. And this was before cell phones, so we’d stay up all night tying up the house phones.

I managed to arrange a couple of movie nights with friends where we’d meet up, because I knew I wasn’t allowed to date. His sister and I were friends, so that helped a little bit.

Although we were young, his voice was deep and he sounded like a fully grown man. I mean, think Barry White.

One night (or early morning), my father picked up the phone on the other side of the house to call his brother, as they carpooled to work together. All he heard was this grown-sounding man telling me, “Baby, I love you.”

He flipped out. Like, ready to beat my behind until I was black and blue. If it wasn’t for his sense of responsibility to get to work, I have no idea how that “morning” might have gone. He was furious.

The next morning, my father asked me some questions then forbade me to ever speak to or see my “boyfriend” again. I have always been a bit hard-headed and stubborn. I told him I was going to keep seeing him anyway.

One thing my father always taught me was that if I was going to disobey him to at least respect him enough to tell him to his face. So I did. In hindsight, I think that sounded better than what the reality was. It did not go over well.

He told me to pack my bags. I did. He called the young man and let him know he’d be dropping me off. The response was that I could stay there for a few days, but his mom wasn’t going for that.

There was a lot of yelling, cursing, and tears that day. My mother came home to me hauling trash bags full of my prized possessions outside to move out. She stopped the circus that was going on.

I ended up staying, but under strict orders to never see or talk to him again. So, I devised another plan. He became “Chris.” And we used one of his friends as a decoy for me to get out and see him a couple of times. It helped when one of my friends started seeing the friend, so her parents would take us to meet the boys.

At the time it seemed like a tragic love story. I felt like I was trapped in Romeo and Juliet or something. Looking back, that’s quite ridiculous. I had so much to learn. Then again, Romeo and Juliet is not actually a sweet love story, but about two teenagers who had a short-lived romance that resulted in several deaths. Thankfully, my story wasn’t so tragic.

I will admit he was my first “real” kiss. My first makeout session (kissing and touching over clothes). Side note, when my body reacted to our makeout session I didn’t know what was going on. I had no idea what it meant to be wet or why that was happening. I used the restroom and was extremely embarrassed. I never told him that. Now, it’s kind of funny.

I was heartbroken when he wanted to move on to other girls who he could actually see and hang out with. Then he moved. I held onto a fantasy that we’d reunite and be together for years.

My father was so sure he was a hoodlum and no good. Interestingly enough, Facebook reconnected us. We’re both happy for each other where we’re at and what we’ve accomplished. We haven’t gotten to see each other. My father was wrong. He served in the military and now works in law enforcement. Quite the opposite of what he thought.

My mother tried to tell my father that if he just let the relationship play out it would fizzle. He couldn’t do that, though. And the more he pushed, the more I pushed. That was the beginning to a lot of unnecessary drama and stress in both of our lives.

Do you remember your puppy love? What happened?