We all leave the past behind to some degree, forget about the events and more often than not the people that shaped it. Today I came bumped into a person from my past, someone who had an effect on me back then, it was my first love – I guess we never forget them.
Heading into town today I got soaked but I had to venture out to pay bills, get items and generally do things that people do. On completing all my tasks I sauntered towards the bus station via the shopping centre to avoid the shitty weather, suddenly looking up I saw her, my first girlfriend and what I saw hurt me to the core.
Before I continue, and in fact use a different name for her I need to take you back, back to the early eighties when I was around fourteen or maybe fifteen.
Back then I’d discovered girls one day, yep it just seems to happen, you pass from a boy into a teenager suddenly, leave the boyish things behind and a transition takes place, its hard to describe – it just happens. I’d like to think back then I was a trend setter, I had an unusual black rucksack that everyone wanted, a push bike my dad had custom built for me, winkle picker shoes and those fluffy white towel type socks everyone used to wear. I was lucky, my mum worked in a knitwear factory that made them, I got them cheap and sold them on, so it made me popular.
One day, Mark a roguish friend of mine confessed he has a crush on a girl called Kerry in the year below us, he asked my opinion of her and if I’d approach her and ask her out for him? That day I did, I caught her on the path between our two school buildings with her friend Pippa. I must have been eloquent that day because Kerry wasn’t sure about Mark at first but I managed to persuade her on a date with him. Pippa looked on and remained silently smiling, she was tall, had long wavy tresses of red hair, her smile was wide and she had lovely eyes. Remembering back she was very curvy for her age and walked gracefully, sure I fancied her but then again I my hormones were raging teen ones and I fancied different girls on a daily basis. Anyway, having done my duty for a mate I headed back to report my success and all was well. Pippa was on my mind but I reassured myself not to make any advance on her as she was way out of my league, getting rebuffed at school was embarrassing and news always spread rapidly!
When the afternoon break came I was walking jauntily along when Kerry and Pippa appeared in front of me. Kerry swept back her human league-esque fringe and said ‘Jay how would you like to take Pippa out?’ as Pippa remained silent and looked at me expectantly I managed to blurt out a shocked ‘Yes’ as my heart did somersaults.
The date went great and the next few weeks seemed a romantic blur, of course back then I had very little conception of what romance really is but I’m sure you get my drift – it was young love, a voyage of discovery. We’d spend nights on the park between where we lived, she lived in a posh part of town and I lived in a very much working class area. Evenings on the park would just consist of cuddles, chatter and clumsy petting attempts but nothing more, there was a lovely innocence to it all really. Often I’d just sit gazing into her lovely big eyes as her hair rustled in the breeze and not really believing my luck. At school we held hands a lot, despite the fact she towered over me, my credibility with the cooler boys went sky high and at lunch times we’d find a sunny spot on the grass and kiss gently.
But as you know, all things come to an end, at that age we are all fickle and rapidly changing creatures. The end came for us at the local leisure centre roller disco. I couldn’t skate for the life of me and probably looked very embarrassing to be with, so when Pippa tumbled over it wasn’t me who came to her aid but someone else, a blonde haired blue eyed boy charmer from my year at school.
Come the end of the roller disco I was history, unceremoniously dumped in favour of Mr Posh Blonde whose skating was as smooth as his patter. Dejectedly I walked home in tears; it was my first dose of emotional pain, being something of a new experience it hurt all the more (and it hurts just as much in later years too!). As the next few weeks passed I wasn’t really nice to Pippa, but then at that age we don’t handle things at an adult level do we? Time passed, Mr Blonde super skater got the flick (much to my evil amusement) and within no time I’d left school and was in the big wide world.
I saw Pippa odd times after that, I would often whiz past her parent’s house on my moped, probably trying to look cool but in reflection and deep down I missed Pippa. Adulthood comes along and then memories become lost in the annals of time, hedonistic late teen years and early twenties arrive and girls come and go – life goes on. The next time I saw Pippa was in the local rag about a year or so ago, she was in the ‘Just Married’ section stood beside some rugby player type who seemed much older than her but I remember thinking to myself how good she still looked, I smiled and inside I was happy for her, happy she was doing ok, even as the odd ancient memory filtered back from those vague days.
Today when I saw Pippa I wanted to cry. There she sat in one of those motorised chair things that you often see old folk so arrogantly driving around. Our eyes met and Pippa looked down, avoiding my gaze – it was as though she seemed ashamed or embarrassed. I felt stunned and wanted to smile and say hello but then I had this awful feeling that my smile would be misconstrued as a sneer. Within a second she’d passed me, deliberately avoiding making eye contact. I passed through the shopping centre automatic doors and felt pretty bad as breathed in the damp air, its not like I still had feelings for her but was just shocked to see her like that, looking so fawn-like and weak. I dunno what to say now really.
Heading into town today I got soaked but I had to venture out to pay bills, get items and generally do things that people do. On completing all my tasks I sauntered towards the bus station via the shopping centre to avoid the shitty weather, suddenly looking up I saw her, my first girlfriend and what I saw hurt me to the core.
Before I continue, and in fact use a different name for her I need to take you back, back to the early eighties when I was around fourteen or maybe fifteen.
Back then I’d discovered girls one day, yep it just seems to happen, you pass from a boy into a teenager suddenly, leave the boyish things behind and a transition takes place, its hard to describe – it just happens. I’d like to think back then I was a trend setter, I had an unusual black rucksack that everyone wanted, a push bike my dad had custom built for me, winkle picker shoes and those fluffy white towel type socks everyone used to wear. I was lucky, my mum worked in a knitwear factory that made them, I got them cheap and sold them on, so it made me popular.
One day, Mark a roguish friend of mine confessed he has a crush on a girl called Kerry in the year below us, he asked my opinion of her and if I’d approach her and ask her out for him? That day I did, I caught her on the path between our two school buildings with her friend Pippa. I must have been eloquent that day because Kerry wasn’t sure about Mark at first but I managed to persuade her on a date with him. Pippa looked on and remained silently smiling, she was tall, had long wavy tresses of red hair, her smile was wide and she had lovely eyes. Remembering back she was very curvy for her age and walked gracefully, sure I fancied her but then again I my hormones were raging teen ones and I fancied different girls on a daily basis. Anyway, having done my duty for a mate I headed back to report my success and all was well. Pippa was on my mind but I reassured myself not to make any advance on her as she was way out of my league, getting rebuffed at school was embarrassing and news always spread rapidly!
When the afternoon break came I was walking jauntily along when Kerry and Pippa appeared in front of me. Kerry swept back her human league-esque fringe and said ‘Jay how would you like to take Pippa out?’ as Pippa remained silent and looked at me expectantly I managed to blurt out a shocked ‘Yes’ as my heart did somersaults.
The date went great and the next few weeks seemed a romantic blur, of course back then I had very little conception of what romance really is but I’m sure you get my drift – it was young love, a voyage of discovery. We’d spend nights on the park between where we lived, she lived in a posh part of town and I lived in a very much working class area. Evenings on the park would just consist of cuddles, chatter and clumsy petting attempts but nothing more, there was a lovely innocence to it all really. Often I’d just sit gazing into her lovely big eyes as her hair rustled in the breeze and not really believing my luck. At school we held hands a lot, despite the fact she towered over me, my credibility with the cooler boys went sky high and at lunch times we’d find a sunny spot on the grass and kiss gently.
But as you know, all things come to an end, at that age we are all fickle and rapidly changing creatures. The end came for us at the local leisure centre roller disco. I couldn’t skate for the life of me and probably looked very embarrassing to be with, so when Pippa tumbled over it wasn’t me who came to her aid but someone else, a blonde haired blue eyed boy charmer from my year at school.
Come the end of the roller disco I was history, unceremoniously dumped in favour of Mr Posh Blonde whose skating was as smooth as his patter. Dejectedly I walked home in tears; it was my first dose of emotional pain, being something of a new experience it hurt all the more (and it hurts just as much in later years too!). As the next few weeks passed I wasn’t really nice to Pippa, but then at that age we don’t handle things at an adult level do we? Time passed, Mr Blonde super skater got the flick (much to my evil amusement) and within no time I’d left school and was in the big wide world.
I saw Pippa odd times after that, I would often whiz past her parent’s house on my moped, probably trying to look cool but in reflection and deep down I missed Pippa. Adulthood comes along and then memories become lost in the annals of time, hedonistic late teen years and early twenties arrive and girls come and go – life goes on. The next time I saw Pippa was in the local rag about a year or so ago, she was in the ‘Just Married’ section stood beside some rugby player type who seemed much older than her but I remember thinking to myself how good she still looked, I smiled and inside I was happy for her, happy she was doing ok, even as the odd ancient memory filtered back from those vague days.
Today when I saw Pippa I wanted to cry. There she sat in one of those motorised chair things that you often see old folk so arrogantly driving around. Our eyes met and Pippa looked down, avoiding my gaze – it was as though she seemed ashamed or embarrassed. I felt stunned and wanted to smile and say hello but then I had this awful feeling that my smile would be misconstrued as a sneer. Within a second she’d passed me, deliberately avoiding making eye contact. I passed through the shopping centre automatic doors and felt pretty bad as breathed in the damp air, its not like I still had feelings for her but was just shocked to see her like that, looking so fawn-like and weak. I dunno what to say now really.
2 comments:
my first love just emailed me from France to say she's splitting up with her husband.
we were 14 when we went out. But still in touch. And I still love her a little bit, 19 years on.
Bless.
i have never really gotten over my first crush (helen j) or my first true love (annemarie k).
in their own ways they made me the cynical bastard i am today!
but i loved them both then and i love them both now.
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