In honor of Valentine’s Day, I thought I would take a little trip down memory lane and tell you about my very first boyfriend. Let me just say, it was a love story for the ages.
It all started in seventh grade. Like all great middle school relationships in the early 2000’s, our love was forged in chat boxes.
Don’t worry, we didn’t meet on the internet. My mother made a habit of telling me often and in detail about what can happen if you talk to strangers online. No, he was a boy a knew from church. Any church kid knows that’s where your first boyfriend will come from. Spending a couple hours a week sitting next to boys while being told you should be focusing on something other than boys is an inevitable setup for young love.
Don’t get confused. Just because we were sitting next to each other doesn’t mean that we spoke. We would just sit side-by-side in silence until we got home, where we would log onto AIM (screen name: muffler55, in case you were wondering) and apologize for not talking to each other all night.
After about a month of our whirlwind romance, I was pretty sure it was love. At this point, we barely spoke in person and the only contact we had ever had was him putting his arm across the back of my chair…once. We were obviously soulmates.
The cycle of in-person awkwardness and cheesy away messages continued for a beautiful three months before he DROPPED. THE. BOMB. He broke up with me (via AIM, obviously) because he needed to get closer to God. How far can a 12-year-old have strayed?!
I thought I would never love again. I nursed my broken heart for a whole…month before getting my second boyfriend who wore Hawaiian shirts and spiked his hair.
BUT WAIT, the saga is not over. Strap in.
A few months passed and my first boyfriend slides into my instant messages APOLOGIZING for dumping me and saying we should get back together. The nerve. Did he really think he could trample on my pre-pubescent heart like that and I would just forgive him? Well, obviously he wasn’t wrong because I took him back.
So began the second leg of our journey, just like the Notebook. Except instead of a future filled with romance and eventually dying side-by-side locked in love, we just went back to our old routine of ignoring each other by day and sharing secrets via chat by night. There was almost a first kiss in there, but apparently I thought that was moving a little fast.
Set the scene. After youth group. We’re all waiting in the church lobby to get picked up.
He sends one of our friends to tell me that he is waiting outside for me. I quickly realize that this is so he can kiss me. So, logically, I hid behind my friends in the lobby until my mom came to pick me up and then sprinted past him without saying goodbye.
I’m telling you. You could write a novel about this epic romance.
It was rocky, but I felt confident that with time, we would grow together and the awkwardness would fade. I never got to find out if that would happen, however, because just when we started to get more comfortable (we would talk on the phone sometimes. I know, borderline PG-13), he dumped me. AGAIN.
This time there was no explanation. I heard a rumor that he kissed another girl on a church ski trip, but it was never confirmed.
I was certain that I was damaged for life. 13-years-old and incapable of ever finding true love. In case you’re feeling bad on this Valentine’s Day, just remember that a little, baby Kierstyn got dumped twice by the same guy.
It took a long time before I was ready to get out there again. A couple months at the most. I didn’t see the next one coming. He had a huge crush on my best friend but she didn’t reciprocate, so she forced him to talk to me so he would leave her alone. Just your typical meet cute.
Spoiler alert: That one didn’t end well either.