Challenge Day 2: My First Love

I pondered whether or not I should write about my first love. It's not awkward for me but when I thought about it, I didn't want it to be awkward for Hagie. After much thought, I decided to go ahead and write about him. The way I look at it is we all have the experience of "a first love." Some people end up spending their life with their first love and some people, like me, end up learning from the relationship and moving on.

I don't think it's necessary to use his name here so I won't. I do want to share some history but more importantly, I want to share what I learned about myself and love. I am grateful for the experience just as it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

When I was fifteen, I got my first job at Baskin Robbins. The job itself actually wasn't that bad. I worked with mainly people my age or just a little older, the owners were cool and the real bonus was the two free scoops of ice cream I got after each shift I worked. It was at Baskin Robbins that I met him. He already worked there when I started. He was a year behind me in school and about five months younger in age. We didn't go to the same high school so I looked forward to seeing him at work. It didn't take long for our relationship to grow and before long we were spending most of our time together. We spent time alone, with my friends or his friends, or with one of our families. We spent a lot of time at Stone Mountain Park, Briscoe Park, Gwinnett Place Mall, and each other's houses. One of my favorite things to do at the time was cheer him on at his wrestling matches. He taught me how to drive a straight shift. We came from families with similiar belief systems and values. I think it's pretty fair to say that both sets of parents accepted the other into their family. There were plenty of occasions that I'd spend time with his mom while he was busy. It was neat.

When I was 18, our relationship ended after three years together when I was a freshman at The University of Georgia. He broke up with me. I'm not sure who my transition to college was harder for, me or him. He was a senior in high school.  Before I even left for college, I had become worried about his marijuana use. I didn't like it. I didn't understand it at the time. I recall nagging him quite a bit and didn't let up on him about his use. My perception is that the marijuana had a lot to do with our split. He would probably say it's because I started to act more like his mother and less like his girlfriend. Needless to say, I was devastated. I lost my appetite, cried a lot, called him a lot, thought I'd never love again and felt very lonely.

Now...fast forward about 17 years and I am married to the man that's meant for me! That being said, I did learn a good deal about myself and am able to recognize lessons/truths that came from my first love:
~I am a caretaker.
~I like to "date" as in go places, try new things, and enjoy dinner out.
~I learned that there are some "habits" that I just can't tolerate.
~I learned what it really feels like to miss someone.
~I am capable of loving unconditionally.
~I learned that heartbreak hurts like hell but I end up on my feet.
~I learned that time really does heal a broken heart.
~I learned how to have relationships with adults older than me, not my  family, that were healthy and independent of my relationship with him.
~I learned what it feels like to be emotionally connected to someone of the opposite sex.
~I value connection.
~I value quality time.

It's been a couple of years since I've seen my first love. I last saw him at his mother's funeral. Few words were spoken and that was okay. I wasn't there for him; I was there for me. He, too, graduated from The University of Georgia and is now married with a son. I'm happy for him and hope nothing but the best for him and his family.