That First Love

People say you never forget your first love. I remember mine. He’s a few years younger than me and oh boy was I ever into this guy. That was waaay back when we were in our early 20s. Every now and then I think of him and I thought of him again just yesterday. Of course, right now I’m sick with a nasty infection (which explains why I’m at home on a Saturday night instead of being out) and it’s probably because the nausea reminds me of part of our relationship. Ha ha, just kidding. He really was (still is, I’m assuming) a nice guy; he took good care of his sister and was a sweetie. One time I told him he was so good to his sister that I almost wish he were my brother. That was perhaps the wrong thing to say to a guy you dig. His response was “I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.” He was pretty cute too. My friends said he looked like a certain hockey player (will not say who since people I know may know him) who is pretty darn good-looking, not the toothless, dumb type. OK, he wasn’t the brainy type. Compared to me he was a little dumb and that’s actually saying a lot because I’m really not that smart either… I highly doubt I was his first love – I know, hard to believe, right? Who wouldn’t love this chick? Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure why we were together. We were such an odd pair. Me smart, he pretty.

Age of technology means it’s easier to stalk people. Come on, fess up. I know you’ve done it. I’ve “checked up” on people I know but I kind of stayed away from stalking him. I just don’t want to know what’s going on with him. My friend is “friends” with him on Facebook but we all know that being friends with someone on Facebook means squat. Still, I avoid being creepy to see what he’s doing now. I sort of have this irrational fear every time I’m in the old hood where he used to (and perhaps still) lives or when I’m downtown where we both used to work. I don’t want to run into him. Is that weird?

It’s so weird that I’m being reminded of all this stuff I really haven’t thought about in such a long time. Once, when we were both getting to know each other, a few of our friends and us went to dinner at an Irish Pub in town. The seating was basically a long bench with a long bench table and he and I sat across from each other. My friend, who sat next to me, later told me he was playing footsie with her thinking he was playing footsie with me. I was wondering why he kept making eyes at me. I thought he was just trying to give me a not-quite-successful-come-hither look.

When we called things off (and let’s clear things up, I did the calling off) I did that thing that women do and I cut off my long hair and got a bob. I also got new clothes. That is big for me because I do not like to shop. I also pretty much deleted every single email and destroyed the things he gave me. It took a few months but I finally got myself to the point that I took a stiletto heel to a CD he made me. GOD that felt good. Still, it took a few weeks after destroying it before I could even bring myself to throwing it away.

Yup, I took photos of the mutilated CD for posterity.

Yup, I took photos of the mutilated CD for posterity. The little pink hard-to-see circle in the photo on the left is where I stepped on it with my truly uncomfortable, good-only-for-destroying-an-ex’s-gift heels.

I almost wish that rejection letter had a big ol' red-stamped "Rejection" on it. Photo Credit

I almost wish that rejection letter had a big ol’ red-stamped “REJECTED” on it. Photo Credit

Yes, I am rambling. I blame it on the cough syrup. One final piece of news that has nothing to do with any of the above is that I’ve had my writer’s rite of passage – like a young girl getting her period and passing into womanhood (can someone please sing Britney Spears’ I’m Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman in the background as I give my news?). I received my very first generic rejection letter! It wasn’t even addressed to me by name. It said “Dear Writer.” Again, it might be the cough syrup talking but I’m so deliriously happy. I’m a writer and they called me one! Plus, I actually finished a book (actually I finished 2 but this is the first book I’ve submitted for consideration). The scariest part was sending it in knowing the manuscript wasn’t ready but, strange as it sounds, it was actually a big relief when I got that rejection letter. Stephen King received 30 rejection letters for Carrie and JK Rowling received 12 for Harry Potter. I got a lot of work to do before I can rack up a good number of rejection letters! So for the Britney song, please replace the title lyrics with I’m not an amateur, not yet a professional. Although it’s debatable whether or not I’m a professional because I do write a lot of stuff that goes public for my job… so maybe the lyrics should be I’m not an amateur, not yet a professionally published fiction writer.

Till my next post which will be rejected by any and every publishing company, hasta la próxima!


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