The prompt given for this post was Young Love.
I've thought it through very hard, to share or not to share. If I was talking to you face to face, I'd most likely tell you the story, all while blushing with sheer embarrassment.
After reading Kirsty's confession this morning, apart from one or two things, I felt like I was reading something I had written about my own teenage years.
I was never really a "girly" girl. But nor was I a tomboy - I was stuck in that weird in between - not really anything special. Oh, I was a bit of a geek - I loved studying Economics (and I'm kicking myself 11 years later that I never went to uni to study it further) and was (and to a degree, still am) totally obsessed with Stargate.
I used to sing this to myself a LOT at high school....
When a boy, who also liked Stargate, asked me out on Valentine's Day in Grade 12, I was so shocked and at the same time stoked, that someone had an interest in me. We broke up almost a year later. It wasn't pretty. I'm ashamed at my behaviour but my heart was shattered. I haven't spoken to him since. If I see a member of his family, I smile politely but never stop.
About 8 months after we broke up, I heard on the grapevine that he had "come out" and I struggled a lot with this news. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he could finally admit his true feelings, but there was also a (very big) part of me that couldn't deal with it. My heart shattered again, after me finally putting it back together. I remember going out to the pub with my friends, and crying, asking them what was wrong with me. Was I that ugly, fat, uncaring, useless, that I had to be used as a cover story? What did I *do* to make him gay? Usually that last question was after my last drink for the night.
Did I love him? I think I did. Was I ever really in love with him? Looking back, I don't think I was. We ruined a really good friendship. And I didn't fight for it in the end. Sometimes I think about sending him a Facebook message to see how he's doing, but then I stop myself.
I was that scared by the whole experience, that I was VERY wary of starting a new relationship with anyone, lest he turn out to be gay too. So for two years, I flirted, and danced with guys at my favourite pub, but never went any further than that. Oh, there was one guy who did the old boob grab, but it was New Year's Eve. I finally got back on the scene and was introduced to a lovely guy through a work colleague who was dating one of his good mates. It took him four years to propose and five years in total to marry me.
Sometimes we fight, and get cranky with each other, but hey, we bounce back each time and we have a gorgeous little girl. We make very good looking babies! How do I know that I am in love with my husband? There are days I want to throttle him, until I realise I can never live without him.
My young love experience wasn't great, but I managed to stick it out until Mr Right finally arrived!
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