Jeremy was my first love, my first lover, my first heartbreak.


I'd known him since I was five.  We went to the same elementary school though I don't recall actually having him in any of my classes.  When you're that young I guess you just know everybody.  Once we got into middle school, which is where you start pairing off with your own little groups, he became part of the nerd brigade, and I fell in with the losers.  By sixth grade I was already drinking and it was around that time I started experimenting with drugs.  We were at opposite ends of the spectrum so we rarely had reason to talk.  Throughout middle school and junior high I do recall having him for several different classes, any contact would have been minimal.  


I didn't find him particularly attractive, my taste for blond, blue eyed guys hadn't set in yet.  As a matter of fact, back then I was attracted to females.  I considered myself a lesbian.  Well, I don't think I ever labeled myself, I just was attracted to females and before Jeremy any kind of activity (mainly just making out kid kind of stuff) was with females.  Jeremy has said he had a girlfriend in junior high, I don't recall that and I don't recall ever seeing him with any girls.  Only the other nerdy geeks.  


I went off to kiddie rehab and I couldn't have been missed because he didn't know I existed.  I re-entered the local high school in the middle of our junior year (the first half I attended in TN).  I had him for two different classes, biology and an english class.  In the biology class I was seated directly behind him.  We didn't speak the first couple of days, we had no reason to, we were from two different worlds.  At that time, he had long halfway down his back.  He'd keep it in a ponytail.  It was obvious the guy didn't take the time to brush it.  Even back then I had OCD, I couldn't stand the sight of it, in fact it distracted me and I couldn't concentrate.  So like on the fourth or fifth day I offered to brush it for him.  He didn't reply, only gave me a WTF look.  I did that for another two or three days, same look back.  Finally I got a hold of the ponytail and tried pulling the holder off.  This got a more aggressive response, he stood up asking what was wrong with me.  His outburst got us both in trouble.  


The following day, I was prepared for him.  I had brought along my brush.  I told him I had to brush that hair and he must cooperate with me.  He didn't, he asked to be moved and they moved him.  I wasn't attracted to him even then, it was just that hair bothered me.  And even with him across the room I couldn't concentrate just looking at that mess.  Anyway, came the day we entered the labs.  We had to get 5 to a group.  I asked the lab assistant to seat me with Jeremy's group, and he did.  He ignored me of course, which at the time didn't matter, I just knew I wanted to pass this class without having to do much work so I figure he would carry my load (our grade was based on us as a group).  A few days after being in the same group, and still not much talking between us, he pulled something out of his backpack and threw it back to the floor.  I noticed he had two D&D books.  I told him I was a player and I had at least one of those books.  He didn't believe me.  I wasn't really a player, but I did have the books.  My step-dad was a gamer and during the brief time I lived there I got wrangled into playing---hey, it was Tennessee and we lived in the boonies, what else was I going to do?? I did have several of the books--3 to be exact.


Anyway, the following day I showed up with my books and character sheets (I enjoy building characters more than the actual playing).  So, that got the ball rolling.  He asked for my number, and within a week we were constantly together.  At that time I had moved in with my brother because I still hated my dad (you know, for not providing me with that white picket fence, idyllic type of life all kids deserve).  For somebody who'd just gotten out of rehab the year before, I was pretty tame.  I wasn't drinking or drugging, I followed the rules, for the most part I was normal.  I still came from a fkd up Mexican family, but I was normal--life hadn't kicked my ass quite just then.  My brother allowed Jeremy to come over, the bro trusted me and like I said I followed rules.  Since my brother had to work we usually had the place all to ourselves, so as time went on he was practically living with us.  It wasn't until March of our junior year that we officially became a couple.  


We were constantly together, and on weekends more often than not he'd stay over at my brothers.  I'm not even sure why we didn't have sex. I know we'd sleep together on the sofa, the floor, my bed, whereever we happened to land. But never did we have sex, I don't even think we attempted it.  I mean, we kissed and such, but I don't even recall getting naked in front of him, though I would change clothes in front of him.  


This was a good point in my life.  I was happy. Happy but I guess still naive, Jeremy was out of my league I just didn't realize things like that existed.  I didn't question whether he loved me, like I said, life at that time still hadn't bitten my ass.  


By the way, it was like a whole month after connecting that he let me do his hair. When he'd stay over at my brother's, I'd wash it, use all my hair products, and blow dry it for him.  He had beautiful hair.


I thought I was going to be with him forever, I thought our bond was that tight.  I thought we were the perfect couple (i didn't consider myself fucked up at the time).  Even, EVEN when we started talking colleges......our plan was to do it together at here in TX.  I thought I was going to be happy forever.


It was not to be.

To leave a comment, please sign in with
or or

Comments (3)

  1. killingtime
    I thought I was going to be happy forever.

    It was not to be.
    I won’t lie, I’ve see a lot of posts very much like yours. It seems like a common “thought” of younger (& older) girls is that the first love is the forever love. I’m guessing that’s because it used to happen that way a lot. That’s because we used to live in small communities & didn’t move around much. A person usually married out of the “pool” that was available in the area that they grew up in. Divorce was “shameful” so people stayed together forever. My wife’s parents were married over 50 years & I doubt that they had even 1 year of happiness, but they stayed married. Anyway the end result is that our society has changed & that doesn’t happen much any more (I’ve known only 1 couple that have been together since elementary school & are married & happy).
    Then there are some obvious problems with those type “dream” relationships. One of the biggest is that people change a heck of a lot early in their lives. They change both physically & mentally & to put it bluntly what are the odds that they will grow together rather than grow apart? Add to that the fact that when your young it seems like every problem is so BIG & every issue is so IMPORTANT. Those things are just off the top of my head & if I thought about it I bet I could write a book of why dream relationships usually don’t work.
    So is it bad that they don’t usually work out? Really I don’t know. I do know that if they if everything was perfect in the relationship then usually it does work out. On the other hand I have rarely seen a perfect relationship for both people. To me the simple fact is that you (you as in everyone) should be exposed to lots of people to find that one person that is perfect for you because the odds are he (or she) isn’t the next door neighbor. And it seems that (& this is my way of looking at it) young ladies seems to waste a heck of a lot of time looking backward at failed romances that didn’t work instead of looking around trying to find the “right” person. And by the “right” person I do not mean someone with huge flaws that you overlook just because you Loooooooove them. I mean the rest of your life ALWAYS person. Just my thoughts.

    January 23, 2015
  2. bechtol

    I don’t know that I look back at this relationship as a failed relationship, I see it more as somebody who abandoned me and I hang on to that hurt because, well, because it hurts me still. I loved him, he was the first one outside my siblings that I totally loved and I saw him as some kind of God, I thought he was going to be my savior. It crushed me, and I still am not over it. Yeah, of course Scott left me all the time, but by then almost 6+ years later I came to expect that everybody is going to leave me, it doesn’t hurt when somebody walks out on me anymore. OR maybe I’ve become good at pretending things don’t bother me. And I won’t let go of any pain because to do that is almost like acknowledging that it didn’t matter, and it did matter letting go would also mean that I’m ok with what happened and I’m not. Yeah, I’m the one paying the price for being dumped, but that’s how it turned out. That’s the life I seem to have been blessed with.

    Marriage should be forever (says the chica with two divorces). There’s nothing wrong with how it worked in the old days.

    January 24, 2015
  3. bechtol

    And actually this relationship I’ve had at least two chances to resurrect…like six months ago he asked that we give us another chance, taking it slow and see if we can capture what once was. I tell him what I need to hear, but he doesn’t say it, or doesn’t understand what I’m asking him to say. I keep telling me he left me once, and instead of coming out and trying to assure me that it wouldn’t happen again he goes off about how he “didn’t leave me” he “went off to college”. Same fkn thing, and saying that is not the same as telling me he wouldn’t do it again. OH well……

    January 24, 2015