Well that's a first!

Isn’t it funny how first times are always the most memorable? A baby’s first words, first time they walk, first day of school, first test, first girlfriend or boyfriend, first kiss, first anything and everything. There could be a million things that happened in between, but we always find ourselves going back to the first times. Or is it just me?

I have a sharp memory of the weirdest things, especially those that don’t matter. I remember movie scenes like from ‘The Notebook’ or lyrics to a 1954 Lingala song or even adverts on tv, word for word. I tend to forget important things like birthdays or instructions and like everyone else I’m assuming, where I put my socks. Yes, socks are important, unless you’re psychotic.

I remember a lot of things about us. Well about him, mostly because we never really spent time together as a couple. How we got to that point is something that escapes my memory. All I know is that we were classmates in primary, then friends and then somehow, we were a thing. At first, I hated him. Well, not hated him, hate is a strong word. I disliked him. His mannerisms, the way he talked and just how he handled himself generally.

You are probably thinking, ‘look at her sizing up boys at 13, while girls her age were watching Hannah Montana.’. Not that I was promiscuous in any way, I was just joining the teenage years and my eyes were beginning to open. Or maybe I’m just an early bloomer. Anyway, that’s not the point.

My dislike for him disappeared when I learnt that he had a crush on me. He’d write notes to me saying so, but he’d never sign off with his name. I would just get love notes from an anonymous guy and you can imagine that at 13, I was on top of the world. Mostly because I thought the notes were coming from some other guy who I had a huge crush on. I’m not crazy for thinking that because I’d always catch him staring at me in class and I’d stare right back. It was a kind of love language between us. One time we were caught, and it was the most embarrassing thing ever but that’s a story for another day.

Now back to my secret admirer. I found out it was him after he wrote a note to me saying ‘’please text me!!’’ with a drawing of a guy on his knees and his number. Even you must admit that he had

outdone himself. That was really cute and I don’t think I will ever forget that. I may or may not have the note with me, 7 years later. I didn’t have a phone at that time, but I found a way to text him because I was dying to know who this prince charming was. I was extremely disappointed to find out that it

was him and not the other one because I didn’t like him. So, I told him that I wasn’t the one he was looking for and pretended to be someone else. Thus began our endless texting…

TO BE CONTINUED??