I just did an autobiography for my college English class, and it got me thinking about what defines me. My life is defined by the people in it. My memories of my youth center most on my parents and my two brothers, spending time with them & doing things with them, more so than they are of friends, sports, clubs, etc. I was a pretty active kid, being involved in Boy Scouts, youth group, band (okay, I had a lot of great memories with the band, and got along great with my bandmates, but I just wasn't really close to them.)
When I got to thinking about it, I realized that though I had a couple of close friends, only one person outside my immediate family made such an impression on me that I couldn't conceive of my life being complete without. I've only had one girlfriend in my life. I met her when I was in eighth grade, and we became friends almost from the time she sat down next to me in math class. She was cute, I was shy. I could hardly talk to her at first, besides just saying "hi," but I had that problem talking to all girls. Dark hair, bright eyes, that cute pixie nose.
I must have eventually loosened up enough to talk to her, and we became friends. She had a way of getting people to talk. Mind you, we were just friends and classmates. (Like I said, I was always pretty shy.) I never got up the nerve to ask her out, and probably thought that I didn't want to risk our friendship by making her uncomfortable around me if she wasn't interested in dating. So I was content to stay at arms distance, no matter how much she grew on me.
After a couple of months, a secret admirer started sending me notes. I had no idea who, but I hoped that it was somebody I liked in return. But again, I didn't talk to very many girls. It should have been more obvious to me. After probably a week or two, she revealed herself to me. I didn't know how to act. I never was any good at observing social behavior, hadn't taken any kinds of notes, didn't talk with other guys because all they ever talked about was who they wanted to "do it" with, never watched any date-type moves (like the Brat Pack ones endlessly on TV those days). I'm sure I was a lot tongue tied and I definitely remember an apple in my throat, but I agreed to go out with her. I still remember exactly where we were when she told me, Chemistry (where the two of us were lab-partners, together with another friend.)
My first girlfriend! I remember feeling all warm and fuzzy. I still do when I remember it. So we went on our first date. The only problem, although I didn't know it at the time, was that she was already dating one of my friends. It turned out not to be a problem, he was cool with it, but then again he was the kind of guy who was cool with pretty much everything ("Que sera, sera.")
Our first date went pretty smoothly, but I didn't kiss her. My excuse was that I had a bad cold and I didn't want to give it to her. She wanted me to French kiss her, but really I didn't know how. Not that I was against doing so on the first date (remember, I didn't really know the rules very well), but I really didn't want to mess it up, or give her my cold. I sometimes wonder how things may have been different if I had taken the chance. All the same, kiss or no kiss, my heart fluttered all night (and not from being scared by the horror movie we went to see.)
To make a long story short, I got the girl.
.
.
.
Shawna, you still make my heart flutter.
And it's to you that I dedicate this page.
I love you, Honey.
Yours forever, T.H.
