A Boy I Once Loved

High school romances are not meant to last - at least in most cases. They are meant to be fleeting glances into the feeling of blood rushing through veins, heartbeats pounding against breastbones so hard the chance of breaking through is real, and fond memories of a chance at young love. They are not meant to be soul connections that stay with you through a lifetime, causing you to seek out the person you connected with in every new city and every face that bears the slightest resemblance to the one you miss without realizing it. They are not meant to scar your heart with unhealable wounds from the pieces they kept with them when they unerringly break.

But sometimes they do. My heart was especially vulnerable to attaching itself to boys that showed interest. Maybe it was from lack of fatherly love and attention, since he was the first man to reject me and break my heart. Maybe it was the idea of being in love and being the center of someone's world. However, I think the real reason is that I was designed for true, heart-pounding passion that made the palms of my hands ache and the rush of fluttering in the stomach that inspires me to write.

The first time I experienced such impossible feelings was at thirteen. He was my age and had moved to Michigan from Arkansas. Sandy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a smooth southern drawl sealed the deal for me. I waited patiently for him to notice me while he dated my best friend. Me, the mousy girl with long brown curly hair, big brown eyes, straight A's, and unrelenting parents that only let me leave the house for school.

Finally, he noticed, and I was beyond flattered. I dedicated my heart to him, but at thirteen, no boy is ready for a long-term relationship. However, it lasted a tumultuous 18 months filled with tears, drugs, cheating, threats of suicide, and occasional stolen kisses in hallways. By the time we made it to high school, I was experienced in more break-ups than most 20-somethings.

In January of our freshman year, he left and moved back with his family to Arkansas. My emotions were raw to say the least and I spent the rest of my school year crying but trying to keep a long-distance relationship through letters. In the middle of the summer, he ended it with a short letter briefly explaining, "It's over."

I went back to school with fresh tears, haunted by the ghosts of memories in every classroom and hallway. Spending days writing poetry, pouring emotions on paper, and bemoaning my fate I could not bring myself to the realization that there was more out there for me. I was turning fifteen and still had a whole life ahead of me with more promise than I could possibly imagine. Not every relationship was supposed to be full of loss and heartache. To my surprise, it was standing right in front of me waiting for it's opportunity.

I had met him at the beginning of freshman year. He was part of our friend group that hung out in the hallway before class each day. I had noticed him at once but was so hung up on my southern charmer I hadn't given a second thought to anything further than friendship. He had dated one of my friends, but when we were introduced, he stood there holding her as his eyes smoldered like red hot coals burning through me. The only thing he said, with an overconfident smile, was, " 'Sup?"

My southern boy had noticed, and it resulted in an argument afterward, but again my heart was dedicated to him, and nothing more came of it. However, Ray was not so easily dissuaded. He was already six-foot tall, lean and rippling with muscles from playing sports and working on his stepfather's land. He had long, brown ringlets that hung past his shoulders and wore his Raider's hat backward between classes. Warm brown eyes and deep dimples that grew impossibly deeper with his killer smile could win over the staunchest of girls.

My sophomore year started out with deep regrets, but Ray had a beeline on winning my heart. I was still of the impression that I didn't make much of an impression. The two years I had spent mooning over someone that wasn't worth my time had clouded my self-worth. So, when I found out that Ray wanted to date me, I was confused and didn't believe it at first.

He persevered, though, and I finally relented. He was seventeen and a grade ahead of me. My parents didn't like him. Everyone told me he was "trouble." I still wasn't allowed out of the house even for afterschool functions.

He spent every moment he could with me, though. He rushed to school every day to see me. Sat as close as possible to me at lunch and we snuck off to quiet secluded places where he taught me what a real kiss should feel like. His big hands enveloped my tiny body, and my hand would get lost in his. Suddenly, I found myself in love with the bad boy.

The butterflies never stopped. We never argued or broke up. I even fought my best friend when she implied, she was sleeping with him. Then one day we skipped school together.

We spent the day wandering around the woods behind our school, talking and getting to know each other. He had convinced me we could easily sneak back in time to get on our respective busses. Neither of us knew that my parents had the cops patrolling the city looking for us. When we did make it back to our busses, our "secret" was already out.

The resulting 3-day in-school suspension was meant to separate us and teach us a lesson. A lack of a place for us to be separated also landed us in the same room, alone, with occasional checks on our well-being while we finished our schoolwork for the day. It was the most wonderful three days I'd ever had with anyone.

The good little girl was gone. I was corrupted by a bad boy that loved me for me. He taught me life and love and excitement. Our souls had found each other and connected without hesitation. There would never be another like him.