Your first girlfriend/boyfriend?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

My first girlfriend was Dawn, the younger sister of a friend of mine. She and I were both just turning 18 when we started dating, during our senior years of high school (we went to different schools). I’d only had one other date in my life up until then, which definitely didn’t count as a girlfriend.

Dawn and I dated for maybe 3 months or so. We both realized that the initial attraction wasn’t developing into something bigger, and we called it off before both of us left town to go to different colleges.

22

First Love is special. I was a HS junior, and Andrea was a sophomore. We met on our Spanish class’s trip to Mexico in the spring of 1978, and we dated through that year and the next, until I moved with my family across the country after graduation. We were good friends, we were in love, we laughed together, I enjoyed hanging out with her family and they welcomed me warmly, and they took me along on some of their family trips. Grease, the movie, was released that June of ‘78, and it was definitely summer lovin’ and I had me a blast (now now, PG rated). Another great song from then was Life’s Been Good, by Joe Walsh. Great memories. For my 17th birthday that summer, her gift was a membership to AAA, and I have kept it going ever since. 40 years now!

Oh and our song was Always and Forever, by Heatwave released a few months before we started dating.

After I had moved to California she broke my heart, but I understood. She was in her senior year and 3,000 miles away on the east coast. So I joined the Marine Corps – she broke up with me in December of 1979, and by the very next month I signed the contract and had shipped out to boot camp.

I’ve been happily married now for many years, and I am my wife’s first boyfriend and her first love. So this is special too. Well of course it is but it’s all the more special since I’m her first love. I’m her first boyfriend.

As for Andrea, I have her contact info but we don’t really keep in touch. I’ve reached out on occasion but I sensed some awkwardness on her part, and I don’t want to press it. What I really want to tell her is a big thank you for being a special part of my life, that special first love, and thank you for the many great memories we had (let’s keep it clean, guys, I’m not talking about that), the fun, the laughter, the hanging out both just us and with her family. I have many fond memories from back then. So Andrea (or Fred), if you’re out there, Thank You! And Jenny or Cindy or Dana if you happen to be out there, please pass this on to your sister.

(and I searched with combinations of those names to confirm it doesn’t lead to any of them)

23

I had a long series of 1 or 2 week girlfriends between 14 and 15, I can’t remember who was first. At 16 I started having 2 or 3 month relationships and again I can’t remember who was first. So I will have to say my first wife when I was 20 was my fist serious relationship.

24

I was a freshman, he was a senior. He was (and is!) so tall, nearly 6’ 8". We were together for a little over a year. It was magical in the way only starry eyed early teenage love can be, but he went into the military, handled the breakup spectacularly badly (he admits) and there you go. I was heartbroken and furious, called him up and shouted at him, and that was that.

About 4 years later (and I forget why) we started exchanging letters a few times a year - I think I ran into him during a visit home -then e-mails when we got e-mail, and now occasionally chat on social media, and are on each other’s Facebook friends list. His brother was in my year so when he died we talked a lot during the aftermath. It’s sort of lovely to have him to speak to sometimes as both of us have fucked up families, and to have someone around who knows what they were like back then and why we are the way we are around them now.

He’s a lovely person, but you know, it was never meant to be and that’s ok. He married and had a daughter, I married twice and had a son. It’s been more than 30 years ago, so it’s just a wee bit bittersweet now at the oddest times, and those are very fleeting and far between. His brother had a mental illness but I knew him before he got sick. He and my ex boyfriend were very close, and it was a comfort to him to have someone who remembered his brother as he was before he became unwell and to commiserate with him as he dealt with his relatives.

As he moved round the world and so did I (me to Australia and now the UK, him to Europe, Africa, the US and back and forth again), I haven’t seen him in maybe 30 years in the flesh, although we’ve come pretty close once or twice!

Still, I’m glad he’s happy and had the life he wanted, and I think he’d say the same about me. His life certainly isn’t one that would have made me happy. And I’m glad we are genuinely friends - not close, but friends still anyway. It validates my teenage assessment of him if nothing else.

25

Junior year of high school. Sherry was cute and smart, and apparently interested in me. I’d never been pursued before, and it definitely increased her attractiveness. :slight_smile: Still, it was a good few months. My first honest-to-God dates. My first kiss. My first French kiss.

Turns out that Sherry was the very living, breathing exemplar of Munchausen Syndrome. All of the medical problems she had, especially the incipient cancer, had been made up out of whole cloth. It’s a wonder I don’t have any serious trust issues given that this was the first “serious” relationship I was ever in.

Actually, what was worse was that my best friend at the time started dating her about 6 months later, and stayed with her for a long time. I was not in the slightest jealous, more incredulous that he would have any kind of relationship with her, given what I’d gone through. He kept dating her through most of college, and it was no fun watching her mess with his head. To this day I have never understood what went on there.

26

I walked into Spanish class, first day of 8th grade, and saw this boy with the most glorious eyes. He was dark skinned with ice blue eyes. I sat a seat in front of him. I pulled a blondie brownie out of the pocket of my pullover windbreaker (it was early 80’s and the were all the rage). He tapped me on the shoulder - I turned around - he reached on the other side of me and grabbed it.
That started a relationship that lasted over two years steady, then off/on for another almost 5 years.
He ended up marrying a girl that was a year younger than us.
I last ran into him about five years ago. He was walking down the street, so I picked him up. By that time, the alcoholic gene that his family had hit him hard. He was walking to work, due to losing his license. He was divorced with three kids and four grandchildren (at only 43 years old). His once glorious eyes were faded to a dull grey.

27

Michelle and I were a couple our entire seventh grade year. I still see her from time to time and must say she looks terrific.

28

You wouldn’t know her. She was from Canada.

29

But I knew Jane, and she was from Canada. Didn’t they know each other?

For K and me it was “Peaceful Easy Feeling.” Her choice, but it worked. Later, Wife hated her effing guts, and did 'til she died, 40-some years later. Girl could hold a grudge. The last happiness I brought her was, “Remember K? I saw he on TV and she’s gay now.” Wife had to gloat to our kids. It was not a surprise, since she was always a bit bi. I wonder what she’s doing now. :wink:

30

Nobody. I’ve never had one.

31

Susan. We used to play together in the sandbox. When my baby sister wet her pants and ran inside crying to get changed, we made mud pies together with the peed sand. She’d come over and I’d get us both cookies from the kitchen and put my arm around her and we’d eat them together on the front step. I tried to write to her years later (when I was marginally literate and knew how to operate a pencil) but I recall my Mom was so appalled at the condition of my handwriting that she demanded that I do it over and I didn’t have the patience. By then I was maybe 7.

32

Jenny. Around 1964. We kissed on the beach at Carthage, my first kiss. True story!

33

I had a “girlfriend” in high school, which didn’t work out so well since I was a very closeted gay young man and she, well, wasn’t anatomically correct for me. I never so much as kissed her, the poor girl, not because I couldn’t bring myself to kiss a girl, but because I couldn’t bring myself to make the first move. She wasted 6 months of high school senior year (1967) on me. At least we both had someone to go to the prom with.

My first real relationship didn’t happen until I was 25. His name was Sandy. Funny thing was he had also been in my class in high school (but it was a big school and we didn’t know each other).

34

I was unattractive and invisible all through public and high school, so I never had a date then. The one time a girl asked me out, in grade eight, I thought she was making fun of me, so I declined.

University rolled around. Still no dates, but I got along better with people.

After a year and a half, things fell apart at university and I switched to electronics at college in another city. There I met J, a cute and cuddly Chinese girl. I ended up going on a date with her, almost without realizing it… even though we passed the coffee shop at the mall where friends of my roommate worked, and one of them actually said, “Got some action tonight, eh?” I just kind of nodded, confused.

A little later, as we were in the elevator going up to the apartment where I rented a room, she surprised me with a kiss. We watched movies and even made out a little (awkwardly on my part–I had NO experience).

I was never quite comfortable with her, somehow always having a feeling that she had hidden craziness. So I never pushed things. In third year she started going out with someone else, and at graduation she mentioned that she was surprised that I ‘let her go’.

Still, she was my first kiss.

35

I was really clueless in high school, and only much later did I realized that a couple of the girls I had liked also liked me. Oh, well.

Which takes us to Sachiko. I met her on my Mormon mission when I was 20. She moved back from Tokyo into the tiny LDS branch in Miyakonojo, a small city in Kyushu. We didn’t talk much, but I thought she was really cute. She was going over to BYU in Utah to study English and I was going to be returning to Salt Lake City.

She went first and we exchanged a couple of letters. I gave her the family phone number and she called me when I got back. I suggested cooking some Japanese food and she asked if this other guy attend as well. :mad:

Fortunately, she picked up on idea that I wasn’t thrilled. We quickly started a relationship. Too fast, actually. We were engaged in record time, but decided it was too fast.

She had to go back home and I followed her, teaching English for nine months the following year. After I went back home the second time, it just sort of faded away.

Five years later, I happen to met someone I know from Miyakojono who also knew Sachiko and she reported that Sachiko had found a nice guy and got married.

36

Bittersweet.

I met her when I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. I crushed on her, but it wasn’t until I was senior and had a car and some money that I could really date her.

She had big, beautiful eyes, a happy, upbeat personality and physically she was right on the line between really cute and hot. We were together for three months and then she broke it off.

I was crushed. She remained friendly with me, and in the back of my mind, I always thought we could get back together. A few months later she admitted she had only dated me to make a classmate of mine jealous, she had met another guy (who she later married) and wasn’t interested in either of us anymore.

37

We were 15, and I was socially incompetent with girls despite my raging teenage hormones. Denise was an inch or so taller than me, a brunette with big brown eyes I immediately and hopelessly got lost in once we were introduced.
She kissed me in the skating rink parking lot after the Friday night skate session was over, in front of a bunch of my friends. It was my first serious kiss, and my first French kiss. When she walked away to get in her dad’s car to go home, I stayed standing in that spot for another minute or so, stunned by what had just happened. I finally returned to reality and rejoined my friends while waiting for my ride.

Friend: “Dude, was that your first kiss?”
Me: “Ummm… yeah…”
Friend: “NIIIICE!” [high five]

2 weeks later it was over, thanks to the aforementioned social incompetence and teenage hormones.

38

My Jeep is named Caroline.

39

Oh, if cars count, my first boyfriend was a Civic named Royal. We never kissed and kept it strictly above the waist.

Humans? Never had an official boyfriend. Spent years involved with a guy who was always officially with someone else. Casually dated in grad school. On my own since.

40

I was in 8th grade, Jason was in 9th. (Junior high was grades 7-8-9 then.) He went to a different school than I did, but we took the same bus. It was fun, but during the summer we drifted apart. We met again in High School, and he introduced me to his friends who became my friends, but we never got together again. In the summer between his Junior and Senior years, he drowned in a swimming pool accident.