This was a post originally written for Yahoo’s Shine. The assignment was to write a letter to our first crush.
For years, you were the man of my dreams. You were skinny and I believe rather short and you constantly had a stream of mucus running from your nose, but I loved you. I know that because I still have my diary from when I was 7 and it very clearly says, “D gave me a keychain. I love him.” Also, there is a heart with an arrow through it drawn below the words–which obviously proves that I was madly in love with you.
Because everybody knows that nothing says love like a heart with an arrow through it.
Of course, there were other ways we showed our affection. Every once in a while, you’d blow your nose instead of letting the snot just stream out. I found that to be really sweet, even though your mom would yell at you because you used your shirt as a hanky.
Because nothing says love like snot on your sleeve.
And there was the time your older brother was riding his bike and ran me over. You were the first person on the scene and asked me if I was okay. And even though I was face-first in the gutter with dirty green water rushing into my mouth, I said “yes.”
Because nothing says love like swallowing a little gutter water just to talk to a cute boy.
Or the times we climbed trees in the orchard behind our houses and you let me into the super-secret tree fort you built with your brothers. And I know I promised never to mention it, but the one time you played Barbies with me (and you were Ken), it was really fun even though I insisted that Ken remain in his band uniform at all times.
Because nothing says love like risking a beating from your brothers.
Of course there was that summer when my parents gave me a chemistry set and we sat on my porch day in and day out trying to make an explosive device. Looking back on it, I can only thank God that we were too stupid to actually create anything like that.
Because you know, nothing says love like trying to blow up your own home.
D, you were my first love—but not the last. And while my husband hasn’t given me a keychain or blown up our house, and even though he refuses to play Barbies with me, or build a super-secret tree fort I can sneak into, he’s my true love.
Because nothing says love like the way he tells me he loves me every day of every year.Add me to your rss reader | Become a Fan on Facebook!