First Love Never Dies, It Just Fades With Memories
A Glorious Re-union From My Memories
NB. Before I start to write this hub which is taken from a chapter in my memoirs, that I am currently writing, I would like to explain that, I have changed names to protect the identity's of some of the people involved: This chapter relates the story of my first love who I shall call Brian. This chapter has been re-written for Hub Pages so as not to break the copy-write implications.
School had been very busy today, following English, my favourite subject, came hockey. Now at fourteen years of age I was no beauty. Not a great sight to behold in my Knickerbocker green school shorts. Little stubby legs bright red and wobbling in the cold. And as usual where had the gym mistress placed me, but in goal for everyone to see my lack of co-ordination. Just adding more embarrassment to my plight. I can say that I got plenty of attention from the boys. Fingers pointed, doubled over with laughter, "Way to go Tommy (short for Tomlinson), they shouted, but at least they wolf whistled. But really all attention was focused on my friend Janet, who with a flick of her hair and a strike from her bat, left all the boys a tremble.
I was relieved to be sitting on the bus going home to the foster home I had been placed in since my mother's death. Warm and welcoming and no one passed any remarks at all. They all knew me for the person that was captured within, and looked past my weight.
Opening the front door to the house, I heard the usual sound of laughter, something I had only just become accustomed too. I could smell the delicious aroma wafting in from the kitchen door, and knew instantly that Alice had been baking. As I removed my school coat and hung it up on the peg in the hallway, I could hear an unfamiliar voice talking. So being nosey by nature, instead of running upstairs to change out of my uniform, I crept into the kitchen to see who the visitor was.
Sitting at the table, dressed in motor bike leathers, ear -ring in his right ear, sat a boy with dirty fair hair. He looked at me but offered no smile, but I did notice that he had a badly cracked tooth at the front of his mouth. Although not terribly handsome, this boys persona was interesting. He had a deep voice and a twinkle in the eye which made him very attractive, in a manly sort of way.
"This is Brian who is coming to stay with us before joining the army" Alice offered, but Brian still did not make any attempt to be friendly. He still sat in the chair by the aga, staring out of the window to the back garden. Dave, who was also home from college, was to share his bedroom with Brian, and from the look on his face, I knew he wasn't happy at all. Now Dave was the oldest amongst us eighteen children, very good looking and certainly had no shortage of female admirers, not me thou as I found him to be imposing.
Over the following few weeks Brian's stiff upper lip wasn't so off putting and I found that I wanted to spend more and more time in his company. So much so, that I began to get teased by my other camp mates. When the time came for him to leave for the army I was gutted. I cried myself to sleep every night and wrote him letters every week to keep in touch. Out of the blue, he began to telephone the house on a Friday evening and would ask to speak to me, we were becoming great friends.
I was so excited when he came home on leave. I would sit at his feet, hanging on to his every word. I used to pinch his jumpers to wear, just to have something close to my skin that reminded me of him. Girls came and went from the home, and every time Brian bedded one of them I was heartbroken. His philosophy was love them and leave them. He was by then a real charmer, and the broken tooth now only added to his persona.
As time went on, despite having a boyfriend of my own, it was Brian that I related to the most. When he came home on leave we spent a great deal of time together, just enjoying each others company. We would sit and talk until the early hours, go to the cinema and for walks in the park, but always just as friends. Brian was my soul-mate. If my sleep was disturbed at night and I crept down stairs for a drink, he would follow within minuets. "Get your coat on, he would say, lets take a walk."
I loved him so much, and still felt the pain as every new girlfriend appeared, but never stayed for long. As I reached the age of seventeen I was allowed to take my own flat. This was a heart wrenching decision because I would no longer see Brian when he came home on leave.
Sitting in my flat one late August afternoon, I felt such a rush of emotion that brought me to tears, and as I looked out of the window, Brian was standing in the garden. I ran down the flight of stairs like the wind, and jumped into his arms. I sobbed and sobbed, so happy to see him.
He had come to take me out. I rushed to change my clothes, tumbling every item of clothing on the floor and finally decided upon a skin tight pair of black trousers which fitted my newly slimmed bottom like a glove and took a plain white shirt to compliment them. Looking back at my reflection in the mirror, I was pleased to see that the ugly duckling was blossoming into a beautiful swan. Brian wore a black shetland jumper which showed every ripple and muscle of his body to perfection, and he was wearing the aftershave I had bought him at Christmas, Arramiss.
Firstly we went to the pub, where an old school friend Paul, was playing darts. Having only known me as a little porker, he gave me plenty of attention and paid me lots of compliments, which Brian was not happy about and became very standoffish. We decided to skip the meal that we had intended to have together and walk along the Promenade and back by the beach. Neither of us talked, we didn't need to. Brian took my hand and I was on cloud nine. Stopping by the Marine Lake, mother duck was hurriedly rushing to protect her ducklings. The clouds in the sky wove a beautiful pattern amongst the twinkling stars, and it was a typical balmy summer evening.
We went back to my flat with a DVD and bottle of wine and sat down in each others company in front of the roaring coal fire. I snuggled into Brian's chest, and he lifted my face to kiss me on the lips. Our love making was so intensely emotional. Slow, rhythmical, sensual, both of us bathed in sweat and tears. There was no stripping off of clothes, or screaming with anticipation, just slow, gentle, beautiful love making. We hugged each other all night. This was the time I had waited for, longed for and knew would eventually happen. I never wanted that evening to end.
But, like all good things that sometimes go wrong, it happened to us. We met again the following evening and both of us poured out our hearts. "I love you Net, I always have done", he said and then the but came. We know too much about each other, spent to much time like brother and sister. A relationship between us will never work. I was so shocked, I wanted marriage, kids the works, but not this.
The feeling of rejection was unbearable, but I knew in my own mind that what he said made perfect sense. I married my current boyfriend in June 1979 and invited Brian to the wedding. He refused, but offered me a flight ticket to Germany where he was based, to live with him and get married. I refused, still hurting from the rejection. Brian married his current girlfriend, almost my double, same age, birthday and sense of humour, on 6th September of the same year, and I never saw him again.