When you’re fifteen…

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When you are fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you are going to believe them, Taylor Swift. You will and I did.

I started my very first day of high school with blonde highlights and a junior boyfriend, who had a car. I wore his Letterman jacket across my back and his class ring next to my heart dangling from a gold chain. His name plus my name, written in hearts, and tattooed to mead notebooks, with a promise of 4-ever!

His name was always on the tip of my tongue. His face always in my daydreams. During English, I decided he would always be my metaphor for true love. In algebra, I solved equations, me + him = eternity. In history, I did not want to concern myself with the past. All I could see was the future, mine and his. Me, in a white wedding gown, walking down an aisle, covered in rose petals, toward the man of my high school dreams. I was wrapped, all tied up in him. My toes were flirting with the edge, and then I fell, head over heels, and I kept rolling.

Someone should have warned me that young love usually doesn’t get the chance to grow old. The hotter the flames, the quicker the fire burns out. We sizzled, sputtered, and spat, then we burnt out, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ashes. I guess I realized I had bigger dreams than dating a boy on the baseball team and he had bigger dreams than dating a freshman girl. The end of us.

I am married now and have two children and that was many, many moons ago. Sometimes, it feels like yesterday. I had not seen my high school dream since graduation, until today. Sitting at my desk, skimming the local paper, I looked into the eyes of my first date, my first “real” kiss, and my first I love you. He looked older, a little rougher around the edges, but his eyes were still the same. I remember carrying a picture of him in my purse and now the local paper runs his picture. His mug shot actually, in the JUST JAILED report. I could have married a felon, and all I can say is that one of God’s greatest gift’s,truly is, unanswered prayers.

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