First Love @ MindSay

It was my freshman year when I fell in love. His name was Jon, he was a junior and the first time he caught my attention was either hall decorating for Homecoming or after the dance, both around October. Leadership kids, like me, had to show up early, and he, being manager of the girls volleyball team was cooking breakfast for them since they had a game later that day. Jon snuck me some food when I came into the teacher’s lounge looking hungrily at the leftovers. I thought that was really nice of him, but then I would of thought of anyone who fed me as a great person, I was so hungry.

Leadership kids also had to stay late after the dance to clean up, and his dad was the leadership teacher so he was pretty much stuck, too. I remember wandering around sleepily and not doing a whole lot of anything because taking down dances takes considerably less time than setting them up, and he came over and started giving me a hard time about not doing anything, calling me lazy. I just laughed it off, and the funny thing is it barely occurred to me that he was flirting, I was just that tired.

All I knew was, after that night, he was always there, smiling at me and teasing me and just generally making me fall for him. That was when the basketball bus rides got really fun, because he would be sitting at the back with the boys and I’d be at the front and he’d smile and wink and I would blush scarlet and he and his friend Alex would laugh and by November I was hooked. My feelings were so incredibly obvious I soon had friends offering to try to hook us up, my friend Justine in particular was really helpful. She was on the volleyball team and was pretty good friends with him, and she told me that he might like me, he just needed to get to know me.

That first phone call was torture for me, not the talking, just the making the call, because I never call guys first. Which pretty much means I don’t talk to guys on the phone a whole lot. But he sounded so excited I called and we talked for a while and I started to get a feel for who he was, or at least who he was for me. Then there were the Myspace communications, and the message came asking what I were to say if he asked me out. I said I’d probably say yes.

Now it was nightly phone calls, hours spent messaging back and forth. There were so many inside jokes between us; ‘rules’ and ‘consequences’ for breaking those rules. A battle of wits, you could say, was actually what earned me the ‘consequence’ of him asking me out, and I was thrilled to accept. I had never said a more heartfelt or happier yes in my life.

He and I getting together happened the week before Christmas break. So we saw each other somewhat, we’d smile and hug, and talk and flirt some in the halls. Later after school got out he’d call me or vise versa, and we’d laugh and talk about everything and nothing. The funny thing was, I had always been set in my beliefs. No one could ever change what I thought on the things like abortion and religion. With just a few conversations, I was reconsidering some of my core beliefs, because he was so good at debating and getting a point across so it really sticks. He really had already changed my world in a lot of little ways.

Christmas break we talked for about 2-3 hours a day, because he was with his mom in Vegas for the first week of break. Nights were filled with quiet conversations, and soon he knew all of me; my hopes, my dreams, my fears. It was stupid, stupid of me to give all of myself away like that but hey, that’s what happens when you fall in love. And fall in love I did, and it was Christmas Eve when he said it first to me. About half past 11 at night, and all I could think about was him, and we talked about our feelings and the intensity of them, and he said it, quietly at first, but there it was; “I love you, and you’re my baby girl.” My heart melted, and to this day I think if someone were to call me his baby girl I’d still get the feeling as if you missed a step, that lurch. Then the next morning, Christmas morning, I woke up, and the first thought that filled my mind was, “He says he loves me!” That was honestly the best Christmas morning I can remember, because that’s what I woke up to, that thought and the thrill it brought with it. I love love, and I love being in love.

We went to a movie when we got back, I Am Legend, you know, with Will Smith. I can remember everything, down to what he was wearing and what side he was on sitting next to me. If I was at the theater I could probably point out which room it showed in. I remember him wanting to spoil me, so he bought a ton of popcorn and a huge soda and candy, even though I insisted there was no way I could eat it all. When he held my hand there and back, there was never such a romantic gesture, and he always seemed to like to just have a part of us touching at some time. Our first kiss was after the movie, he stayed for dinner, and we were in my room on my bed, and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and it was just one of those magical first kisses, definitely the most memorable one. I can still taste his cherry chapstick and see his shy little blush. It was beautiful.

Near the end of break I went over to his house. Now let me tell you, it was at first one of the most awkward situations I’ve been in. The reason why was Jon’s dad was my leadership teacher. Yes, my boyfriend’s dad was my teacher. So it wasn’t awkward so much as abnormal, to see your teacher sitting in front of a television in gray sweats and a purple Vikings t-shirt. I guess it’s just easy to forget teachers have a life outside of school. Once I got past that, though, it became one of the best days in my memory. When we went in his room, we decided to play Scrabble, and the weird thing was he turned on his radio and the song that came on was our song, “With You” by Chris Brown. (It was our song because it kept coming up while we were one the phone when he was in Vegas and it described how we felt about each other.) So with our song playing we started playing, and it was the most engaging game of Scrabble I’d ever played.

After we finished the game, we went outside and played in the snow, and that was really the magical part. He wrapped me in his sweater, (the only guy so far to ever do that,) and we headed outside. It was one of those picture perfect moments in my life, one of those romantic scenes straight out of a Disney movie. There was a snowball fight, we chased each other in the snow until he tackled me, where I made a snow angel and he did too, only his was almost twice as big as mine. Later we played ping pong in his garage and got even closer and the whole afternoon was just one I’ll never forget. That and cherry chapstick.

That was the pinnacle of my happiness. My entire life’s worth of sadness seemed to balance out with the total sense of joy he brought into my life. It sounds crazy coming from someone so young, but I loved him. I, a person who dislikes kids and babies and doesn’t believe in marriage, I would have married him and borne his children and never would have been happier. My heart almost burst every time he told me he loved me, every ‘baby girl,’ every time we touched I felt a little jolt of lightning. Every love song reminded me of us somehow, I was inspired to draw and write poetry about my feelings for him. He was my entire life.

Within 2 weeks of that wonderful day during break, my life completely crumbled. I knew, I figured and I even told him, I was scared almost the entire time in a deep part of me because I knew it was too good to be true. I knew he was too good to truly love me as I loved him.

You know that movie High School Musical? Well us being together worked kind of like that, I was the intelligent but shy and not really super well liked, and he was the social, athletic guy, if not as good looking as Zac Efron, but still up there and there were plenty of girls higher up on the food chain than me who wanted him. That was a fact that seemingly became evident only once he was involved with me. Everyone knows HSM is completely full of crap, but it works out with the two lovers anyway. News flash: it doesn’t work like that in real life. The geek never gets the athlete, the athlete will never pick the intellectual when there are other choices. I thought maybe, just maybe, for once I had picked the right guy. Wrong. Or I did pick the right guy, but I was wrong for him.

It started to become evident to me in school, where he wouldn’t kiss me in the halls, because apparently I was the prude, and he’d hardly talk to me, he’d walk right by. Every night, though, we’d talk on the phone and he’d reassure me and he’d make me laugh and just fall harder and harder. I’d have friends come up to me, “Oh, Jon likes you so much you don’t even know.” “He can’t wait for Courtwarming, he’s going to look so good for you.” This would make me blush and feel privileged to even be dating someone like him and I’d convince myself his being a little shy about us in public came with the territory and all other kinds of excuses.

By Courtwarming, I knew. I hoped and prayed, (me, an agnostic, praying!) and just tried my hardest not to think what I was thinking. At the dance, here’s what got me, he wouldn’t slow dance with me. He was tired, or hot, or just not feeling good when I asked or hinted at wanting to dance. Instead, he spent the entire night with the girl who refused him before he asked me out. I was second to her to start out with, and apparently his ‘love’ for me didn’t change that. Her date stood her up, and when she was crying and being lonely, he spent the dance comforting her.

Here’s the worst, right after I asked him to dance and he was ‘too hot,’ one of the last slow songs came on and it was, “Megan doesn’t have anyone to dance with, is it ok if I can go dance with her?” Of course I assured him it’d be fine, to turn and rush into the bathroom with tears in my eyes as soon as he was back at her side. I had always sworn to myself to not be one of those teary, dramatic, emotional girls at dances who start sobbing when she gets turned down. But that was like a knife straight to the heart. ‘He can’t love me, he never did love me, I’m not good enough for him, he wants her more, I’m holding him back by dating him, he doesn’t love me, he doesn’t love me, he doesn’t love me.’ Then after the dance he wasn’t hardly around, and I ran in to him once in the halls when we were alone, and after assuring him I was ok with it all, we kissed and that was that.

That was the last kiss I shared with him. The next night we’re on the phone, and there’s something wrong and I know it, and I ask him and he’s saying that he’s just confused. Just confused. He loves me, he always will and I’ll always be his baby girl, but he’s also afraid of moving and hurting me that way. That he loved me but there was something he was unsure about, but he‘d be willing to keep trying if that was what I wanted. The thing that made it worse was that he knew, he knew I didn’t believe in staying in a relationship when you weren’t 100% sure of it. He knew my conscience would be too strong to keep him back when obviously he’s wanting different things.

Then he had to go, leaving me with a racing mind and breaking heart, and I got a call from my friend Justine. She asked about how I’d feel if we broke up, and I told her I’d be unhappy but I’d understand, that it wouldn’t be so bad, because, c’mon, since when do I care so much to let it affect me. And then he said something, and I automatically knew what had happened and that it was him, as hard as he tried to pretend he hadn’t just given himself away. He was there the whole time, and here I was bearing my soul to her and you could easily hear the tears in my voice and he was there the whole time. When he knew that I knew he was there, he called me back so it was just us again, and he ended it. Temporarily, of course, until he could make sure he could be the guy I deserved and that he would always love me even if we weren’t necessarily ‘together.’

Now, looking back, I thank whoever the heck is out there, watching over me, that I’m very afraid of pain and that there was no easy way to end my life after that phone call. My heart shattered. I was screaming and sobbing and I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t sleep because no matter what I did the thoughts followed me. ‘He doesn’t love me, I’m not his baby girl, I’m not good enough for him, I somehow screwed up the only true love I’d ever felt, I’d never feel his kiss, never feel his arm around me, never hear the love and warmth in his voice, I’d never see the smile he kept just for me, he doesn’t love me, I’m not good enough for him, it was all too good to be true.’ I listened to ‘With You’ over and over again and sobbed about how it was all a lie, I wrote and tore up letter after letter, I contemplated life without love and thought about ways to kill myself, but then the part of me hoped that maybe it was temporary, maybe it was a bad dream and I’d wake up and if I killed myself there’d be no chance of getting him back.

My pajamas were soaked, completely saturated with tears, and the pain of the emotion seemed to linger on in the fabric, where even today I can still feel some sadness when I pulled them on. Dark blue flannel with snowflakes, my heartbreak pajamas, my last resort to sleep in because they remind me of the night more than a small part of me died.

After maybe 4 hours of sleep, tops, Monday was almost harder than the night before. I was a ghost when I got out of bed, took a shower where at least if the tears came I could pretend there was no real reason for them, and then pulled some clothes on. Forget breakfast, forget makeup. I also made a huge mistake grabbing my sweatshirt. It was the sweatshirt I was wearing during break, the sweatshirt I wore under his sweatshirt when we played in the snow. So as soon as I got to school, the smell hit me. His smell. So not only did I see him in the halls and try to pass off a friendly smile, which I always failed at miserably, not only did I have people talk to me about him where every time I had to let them know we were no longer together, I also was surrounded by his cologne which still lingered on my jacket. The really unfortunate thing was at that point I was cold and I always wore my jacket and it was just the hardest day of my life.

It stayed hard for the longest time. I’d see him and my heart would miss a beat then he’d smile, with an apology in his eyes, and it’d feel like the air was rushing out of me and I’d try to smile but the tears would rush up. I’d see his friend Jason, his friend who only really started talking to me when I was with Jon, and I’d see a kind of pity in his eyes, and that would be hard too, because I’d think, ’if this guy who I barely know can see my pain, how is it Jon can’t see or just doesn’t care?’ and the tears would come up again. The tears rushed up a lot for a couple weeks. A couple weeks later his name would just bring up a sharp sadness, and a boyfriend or two later all it did was bring up a sad sense of loss. At semester he transferred into leadership, which was hell at first but then eventually was just another guy I spent a period trying not to look at without letting it distract me.

The pain returned in full force though, when less than 2 months after we broke up, he was dating the ‘love of his life,’ a bitchy, rude girl who just liked to turn friends on each other and hurt people. He said the same things to her, he loved her the same as he loved me, down to the same song and everything. That hurt. I always was the best person I could be, then someone who, no offense intended, I always thought of as no where near as good a person as me, won his heart, it hurt. It didn’t help she was friends with my friend’s friend, which translates to him always being around, because for her at least he’d take time off of basketball to sit and be with her at breakfast, and he always ended up at the same or the next table over.

Another of the biggest blessings, though, was when he did move to Vegas, just like he was worried he’d do. It was the day before my birthday, I get a text out of nowhere saying he moved to Vegas. I was thrilled. Of course I wasn’t over it, I don’t think I’ll ever completely be, but I’m a very, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ kind of person. On the downside, a lot of responsibility fell onto me in leadership but that was nothing compared to the relief of not feeling that twist of the knife every time I saw him kiss her like he wouldn’t kiss me, every time I’d see him sit with her when he wouldn’t sit with me.

And now, here I am. Months later, and still not the same person after it all. I don’t think I’ll ever gain my ability to trust completely back, and I’ll never use the word love when speaking to a guy I don’t consider my brother. Because now I know what love is, and I know what it’s not, and I know there’s nothing worse that losing it. At the same time, though, I gained a lot from it. I made one of the best friends I’ve had in a long time in his friend Jason. I know not to lead someone on, and I know not to give everything to a guy, because there’s that saying and it’s 100% true: ‘Never make someone your everything because when they’re gone you’ll have nothing.”

Right now, to be honest, if he showed up at my door and begged forgiveness and said he never stopped loving me, I’d probably take him back. They say you never really get over your first love, and I fully agree. I may not be mourning the loss of the love of my life anymore, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t cross my mind quite a bit. Jon Seal was the best and worst thing ever to happen to me. He gave me the best memory of my life so far, and made me feel the worst pain there is, next to childbirth. I’m happy with where I’m at now, and that couldn’t have been accomplished without meeting Jason or knowing when not to say ‘I love you.’

Would I do it over? Would I change it? I might. I might not. I guess I’ll never know, because we’re no longer a part of each other’s lives. Some people go through there entire lives without being in love, and it might have been easier that way, but I’m glad for what I had.