My First LoveWhen I was 8 years old at summer camp, I met this girl named Gwen. She was my first true love. You see, I never found girls gross. For as long as I remember, I have always liked girls. (Now, I like women)
We met through her brother Jesse. On the first day of camp, he was my bunk mate, and we had become friends. I was a very shy and awkward kid, still am, it was very cool to make a friend on my first day there. That evening in the mess hall at dinner, he introduced me to her. My God! She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She had straight yet frizzy red hair, green eyes and freckles everywhere. She looked amazing. We hit it off immediately. Her voice still rings in my ears to this day. We talked about whatever 8 year olds talked about. Actually, she was a year older than her brother, so she was 9. (The beginning of my lifelong love of older women. Yet another story for another time.) She actually laughed at my pathetic attempts at humor. From that moment on, she and I were inseparable.
Every morning we would meet in the center of the camp. The boys cabins were on one side while the girls cabins were on the other side of the campgrounds. We would hold hands and walk to the mess hall for breakfast. We sat next to each other. Our favorite cereal was Honey Nut Cheerios. Still is my favorite. We held hands wherever we went. During free time, I would sit at poolside and just stare at her. I was infatuated with her pale skin and her freckles. She was so beautiful. She couldn’t stay in the sun for too long or she would burn. I didn’t know what that meant. So, I had to take her word for it. I would skip most of my activities so that I could spend time with her. She was my first kiss. Okay, THAT was gross. But I learned to like it.
Her brother and I got into a fistfight one night because I was spending all of my time with his sister. In hindsight, he was right to get upset. I didn’t have the heart to hit him. After the fight, we made amends and I learned better how to balance and manage my time.
When camp was over, we promised to keep in touch, but I lost her contact information. When my parents picked us up, they revealed that we had moved to a new house. They sent us (I had an older sister and brother at the time) to camp so that they can do so without us getting in the way. BASTARDS! I don’t know if she ever tried to contact me or send me a letter, either way, I would not have received her letter, or gotten her phone call. I was sad because I never heard from her again.
All of these years later, I still think of her, I wonder how she is doing, if she’s a mom, if she’s happy. I am still in love with her and I desperately would like to see her again.