Theory of Three Loves - Part 1

I met him in sixth grade. Our elementary schools were in neighboring cities and once you moved to sixth grade they merged into the same school. His childhood friend became my best friend and she introduced me to him. I was interested right away, but had always been shy. He was a little shy also, so we remained friends for all of sixth grade.

After a summer apart, we returned to school and had a lot of classes together. It didn't take long for him to ask me to be his girlfriend and I was over the moon, happily saying yes.

But what does it mean to be dating in seventh grade? How was it so exciting just to hold someone's hand? We didn't do much more than that, yet I was "in love." I felt as if I was living a fairytale, that I had found my prince. We were going to go through all the stages of middle and high school together and then shortly after high school we were going to get married.

Were we though?

In eighth grade, we celebrated one of our mutual friends' birthdays at his house. He had a corn field in his backyard. Nothing huge, just a smaller one that we could run through and around, play hide and seek in, scare each other, etc. There had been talk amongst the guys in our friend group that he was going to kiss me, like really kiss me. I had sweaty palms all night.

We started to play some silly game in the dark. Eventually, it was just he and I walking around the field, talking. Finally he stopped and faced me. He said, "I'd like to kiss you if that's alright?" I was so damn nervous, so I just shook my head yes. Neither of us had really kissed anyone else, but he gave it his best shot and I thought it was the most perfect kiss. There wasn't a ton of slobber like some books and movies mentioned. He used just a touch of tongue, enough to make me want more. When the kiss ended, our foreheads rested against each other and we were both smiling like goons. This love had to be real and pure and long lasting, right?

That's what all the books said at least. Love at first sight, young love maturing to adult love, blah blah blah.

Our first fight happened at the end of our eighth grade year. I couldn't even tell you what it was about now. We decided to spend the summer single, as if that meant we would see other people or whatever. I spent the summer heartbroken, wondering how I had lost the only man I thought I would ever love. He spent the summer working the family farm.

Freshmen year started and I had never felt so alone. I followed other friends around and watched him. Summer and farm work had treated him well and I felt even more infatuated with him. He didn't seem to notice me, but I felt determined to find a way back into his life. After all, he was the man I was supposed to marry.

I did it, too. We eventually found our way back together and this time it felt so good, so comfortable. Other people joked about us being "the couple." You know, the one that makes it after high school. He talked about it some this time too, so maybe they were right.

Our relationship seemed more mature now. He was going through some stuff at home and his escape was time wrapped up in me. His mother never liked me, so seeing each other was difficult up until he got his driver's license and a car. After that, he sort of rebelled and we spent every second we could together.

Small kisses turned into hours spent exploring each other and making out. Being that we were in High School, everyone assumed we were already having sex, but for us, it never made it to that point. I'm not sure if this was a reflection of our shy personalities or if it was because he was trying to decide if he should follow his religion and upbringing and wait until marriage for sex. Regardless, it made the heartbreak a little easier, so I am thankful for that.

Our Sophomore year was the best year of our relationship, hands down. Everyone wanted to be like us. He and I were so happy and we discussed our future together. Life seemed to make sense and when you think about fairytales, this is exactly how it is supposed to be.

The thing with fairytales is they leave out the hard parts. For example, how was I supposed to cope with him talking to, walking with, and spending more time with another girl? She was just a friend, he had said over and over again. But then there was another one, and another one. Every time I asked him to make me feel like more than just a friend, it seemed like I was asking him to complete the world's most impossible task. We began to fight all the time. I felt worthless, small, heartbroken. Fairytales always end with a happily ever after and I felt as if I would never get mine. This young love is exactly that. It's the love for what we are taught, what we know "love" to be. Perhaps the hardest part of this love is the fact that it will be so magical up until it just stops, usually because of something minute and silly. It leaves you wondering what love really is and how long you will have to wait to experience it.