My first great love. Honestly, I hope it hasn't happened yet. My love life has been distinctly anticlimactic. My friends have fallen in and out of love with apparent easy, I hold romantic relationships and guys not "safe" at some distance (safe= gay, attached, or completely not right/unavailable). I am getting better as I get older, as my recent forays into the DC meat market can tell. And I see a bit more success. But still nothing that makes me lose my tight, fist-clenching grip on common sense and cynicism.
My first "love" (it was 6th grade and doesn't really deserve the word, but oh well). Ryan. Ironically blonde and blue eyed. I still "accidentally" date that type, even though I prefer a darker look. He was shyish, but popular. Lots of girls wanted to "go out" with him. I think we actually ended up at some social event "together" (parents preparing for an auction or something to that nature).
My first boyfriend came at the same time. While my love "went out" with someone else, I agreed to go out with Rob. He was kinda cute dorky, brown hair. Eager to please. When he asked me out several days in a row he offered to "change however you want." Cuz that's a brilliant dating philosophy. He is probably completely darling now. We date for the length of two recesses during a single day. Then I backed out because I felt so bad that wasn't interested in him really at all. I just wanted to be part of the cool kid crowd who all had boyfriends.
I am glad I am not in 6th grade anymore.
