First Love

The first time I saw him, he was sitting with some friends, strumming his guitar. He had long light brown hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. His smile was contagious. This was the summer of 1974, and I was seventeen years old.

I didn’t think that I would ever see him again, but one night a couple of my girlfriends and I went to see a scary movie. We had only been in our seats a couple of minutes when a couple of boys came and sat directly in front of us. I thought nothing of it at first. But during a particularly scary part of the movie, I squealed really loud, and one of the guys turned around and began to tease me.

The guy turned out to be the boy with the blue eyes. I was embarrassed he had heard me squeal, but it actually worked to my advantage, because for the rest of the night, he flirted with me and teased me about being scared of the movie. Before the movie was over, he asked my name. I shyly smiled and told him. He told me that his name was Bob.

I could hardly go to sleep that night, because I was so excited. The fact that he had asked my name showed me that he was interested. But I couldn’t help but wonder if and when I would see him again.

Then one day, about a week later, I was over visiting my grandmother. My mother called me there and said, “Some long-haired, barefoot boy carrying a guitar just came by here looking for you, and I told him where you were.”

Immediately I knew it was him, and I panicked, thinking I probably looked horrible. My hair was a mess, and my outfit wasn’t one to impress. But I ran a brush through my hair and put some lip gloss on, which seemed to help. I couldn’t help but wonder how he had found out where I lived.

About ten minutes passed and I heard the doorbell ring. Nervously I opened it, and there he was. My heart instantly melted. He smiled at me as I walked outside, and we sat on my grandmother’s front porch and talked for a long time. It was instant rapport between us. It felt as if we had always known each other.

That day was the beginning, and from that day on we were inseparable. He picked me up each day after school. He took me to my part time job, and picked me up. And when I wasn’t working or at school, we were together. He was funny and romantic and respectful. He played love songs for me on his guitar. My favorite was a John Denver song called “My Sweet Lady”. I would melt when he played and sang for me.

Things got very serious with us. We were deeply in love, and nothing else seemed to matter. I wanted to spend every waking moment with him. We talked of marriage, and our plan was to wait for me to graduate from high school. Waiting until after college was not even a thought. We wanted to be together as soon as possible.

Bob and I did not make love. We wanted to wait until our honeymoon, and we would laugh and joke about it often. It was something special, and we wanted so badly to do things right. We didn’t want to take a chance on messing up anything with our relationship.

At the end of August, Bob came to me and looked very serious, saying he wanted to talk to me about something. We sat down on the park bench as he broke the news to me. He had enlisted in the Army.

I was devastated, but he told me that he really wanted to make a good life for me…and that I could finish my last year of high school and then we could get married and be together.

I remember acting like a stubborn bratty child. I didn’t care about finishing school. I just wanted to be with him. But he wouldn’t hear of me not graduating. He wanted what he knew was the best for me.

So two months later, I went with his family to drop him off as he started his time in the army. I cried so hard. I can’t remember ever crying so hard. I felt like my world had ended.

The very next day I got two letters from him. And it was that way every day. Soon my favorite part of the day was to go to the Post Office to get the mail. Sometimes I had as many as three letters from him at once. I always had at least one. And they were so romantic and so funny. I would read them through a combination of tears and laughter, and then I would write back. I penned so many love poems to Bob. My heart was so full, I had to have an outlet for expressing myself.

Then one day the letters stopped. I couldn’t figure out why. And when I talked to him on the phone, he sounded a bit different for some reason. I couldn’t put my finger on it. He assured me he was fine, but had just been very busy.

Christmas came around and I was looking forward to him coming home for the holiday. I went to visit his mother to see if she knew what day he was coming, and she told me to sit down. I could tell something was wrong, because of the serious look on her face.

“I don’t know how to tell you this….other than to just say it. Bob got married,” she said.

I remember looking at her like that was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. “What? “ I asked. “He can’t be married because I’M here,” I said, totally not comprehending what she was trying to tell me.

“No, honey…he married someone else. A girl named Chris he met in school there. I’m so so sorry.”

I felt myself go into total shock. I don’t remember anything after that other than wanting to die.

A couple of weeks later, it was the week of Christmas, and there was a knock at my door. I went to open it, and there he was, standing in his dress uniform, looking so incredibly handsome. He asked if he could come in, and I let him. We went into the den and just talked. He told me that he did love me very much, but that while in school, he met Chris, and they feel in love. He said it came down to the fact that she was there and I wasn’t, and also the fact that they were both in the Army. Having to make a choice between two women he loved, he made what seemed the best at the time. He said he never wanted to hurt me, and that he still loved me. But he said he knew that I would find someone else to love. And then he wrapped his arms around me, and with tears in his eyes, he kissed me goodbye.

That same year, when I graduated from high school, I got a graduation card from Bob and his wife. His wife wrote a note in the card, and she told me that she had heard so many wonderful things about me, and that she was sorry for having hurt me. She told me that she hoped I was okay and would go on to college and succeed and find lasting love. And this was the last I ever heard from Bob.

He was my first love, and there is a place in my heart that will always be his and his alone. Some people may think I should be very angry with him, but through my tears, I was able to understand what happened. And I was also able to not let what happened diminish our memories or the feelings I know he had for me. There have been times I wish that I had quit h igh school and went to be with him as soon as he left. And then I would be married to him. But would I eventually have resented not graduating with my friends and going to college as I had planned? I think he knew this, and he truly wanted the best for me. He very much wanted me to finish high school and college.

I still have a shoebox under my bed with a stack of all of the love letters he sent to me. And from time to time, I open it and read them, and smile. What we had was beautiful and special, and I wish that every teenage girl could have the experience that I had.

Sometimes I wonder where he is, and if he is still married. Sometimes I dream about him, and wake up feeling sad that it was only a dream. And sometimes I wonder how if would be if we were to cross paths again. And even though I’m sure the years have changed him, just as they have changed me, in my mind I still see the long haired boy with eyes of blue strumming his guitar.