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My first love; I was six, he was seven. His parents had a cottage next door to my grandparents' cottage. We played together nearly all summer, swam together, fished together, went to see the Indian pow-wow together every week (once a week touristy thing). We were going to get married--many years later when we grew up, of course.

That was the only summer we got to spend much time together, after that we were rarely at the lake at the same time. We drifted apart, of course.

The fall I was 12 and he was 13 he died in a house fire along with his Dad and one of his older brothers. Even though I hadn't talked to him in years it was crushing to find out about his death.

My 'real' first boyfriend is the bio father of my oldest son, and as emotionally hard as it was for me at the time (being jilted when he decided in my 5th month of pregnancy he really didn't want to be a dad), I am so glad he 'got away'. My dh is a thousand times better than the one I thought I was going to marry.
 

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Discussion Starter #22
Tamsam and Kris have brought up the real reason this subject was on my mind.

I just finished reading "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien -- it's an assigned book for my Lit class next quarter (I'm getting a head start). The book is about Vietnam, but the author had a childhood love who died. Very sad, very moving.
 

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Even tho I've been very happily married for over 20 years, I still wouldn't mind finding out what happened to Mike. Unfortunately, I don't remember his last name & the only person who knew us both at the same time is dead.

The good thing about that is I can still remember him as young & good looking. For all I know, he's gotten fat & bald! ;)
 

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My first love is my husband so I don't get to play. :)

I did, however, want to comment on Tamsam and Max.
Seeing men make these statements, not being afraid of censure for showing a more tender side is absolutely awesome. So often I wonder if all men (my Greg) included WANT to say the right things but are afraid of how they'll be interpreted or used (if at all) in the future.

I wanna just hug both y'all.

Okay, carry on- i'll sit on the sidelines and watch.
 

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I’ve often grown nostalgic about the One Who Got Away… wondering what happened to him. Never would I have imagined the past coming full circle.

We met because he had a crush on my best friend, who made it clear to both of us she was in no way interested. When a connection started growing between us, I spoke with each of them privately to avoid problems - she said not only was she not interested but that he annoyed her sometimes, and he said since meeting me he had lost interest in her.

Shortly after, we fell madly in love, close enough to finish each other's sentences, stupid with adoration for each other. Guess my best friend took a long hard look at what she had thrown away, for on our college graduation she dropped the bombshell that maybe she did have feelings for him. A shocker for both of us! And a shocker to me that this would be enough for my boyfriend to choose to leave – he dearly loved me, but with my best friend’s admission, his feelings for her came flooding back, so he felt he could date neither of us.

What was supposed to be a happy occasion turned into one of the worst times of my life. I lost everything that weekend – my love, my best friend, my home on campus. I also missed the big graduation party, and what would’ve been our first romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant. I was supposed to introduce him to my Dad for the first time. And the long graduation ceremony itself was hell – had to somehow keep it together when I could barely keep in the tears. The loss of that man took a long and dark period of my life to get over.

For some reason, I always thought I'd see him again, someday. And nine years later, the phone rang. He called to tell me he made a mistake leaving. To tell me I was on his mind often, especially the two times he found himself on his deathbed being administered last rites. (He was born dead and did have a few oddball things happen to his health.)

But not even that shocked me as much as finding out that my ex-best friend had tracked him down two months after we broke up, and they dated and eventually got engaged. I developed the weirdest feeling. It was a rage muffled by time and healing, a rage as if I was angry about something that had happened to someone else long ago. I was not the same person I was in my early 20’s, but I imagined as if a casual observer how that person would have felt had she found out they got together after all. As devastated as I was by my boyfriend’s decision to leave, I still recognized that dating neither of us was a decision that a Man of Honor and Conscience would make. And I had almost called my ex-best friend a few months after the break-up, to forgive, as I knew she had been hurting and we had been friends for years. GLAD I NEVER CALLED.

Turns out my ex-best friend never flourished under his love, never responded in kind, and left him 2 years later. My ex-boyfriend and I rehashed the past in calls and letters until we got past it all. Now we’re good friends. We’ve met up and even had a weekend vacation together. And it took me that long to realize – after all those romantic memories, after all those years of wondering what happened to him – that – haha! He is not the one for me. He’s a good man with a good heart, and he’s marriage material, surely. But we no longer relate as one, and we've both grown and changed. As surprising as this is for me I don’t see myself wanting to spend the rest of my life with whom was formerly THE love of my life!

I never did marry. Still looking for The One…
 

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We are still in contact --it is odd to those who know of our past - most do not have a clue (but dh even likes him). Thats on of the great things about being in Alaska there is no chance of ever crossing any lines.
 

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When I was young, I fell in love with a boy who was LDS. We loved each other very much. My mother hated him and his family because of his religion, and we finally ended our relationship due to her hatred. I loved his family, they were warm and loving, they were very poor, but love does not come with a promise of riches to anyone. The funny thing is, now, almost 50 years later, my mother has fallen love...with a church....and is a member of the LDS church...and is very sorry for the things she did all those years ago. I often think of him, and wonder what has become of him and his life, but we cannot go back and live in the past. He told me he would love me "as long as the wind blew through the trees", so every time I feel the wind , or see the trees bow to the wind, I think of him.
 

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Well I was never one of those girls who ran around trying to have a boyfriend, it barfed me out. We're talking 1st and 2nd and 3rd grades, when some girls are just weird about that stuff and some parents seem to encourage it *cringe.* I thought pairing off like that was just icky, mostly because all the other girls did it. Nerp.

But Jimmy was a calm, sweet, nice boy. All the other boys were obnoxious, crapazoid and rowdy. At 7, how many boys are nice?? He and I clicked. We held hands because we had real affection for one another. Just to get away from the other kids, we'd walk out into the field (the playground extended quite a ways out), but we got teased about that. I even didn't play tetherball so I could be with him. (!) It was just easy and fitting somehow and good. I swear it lasted like two weeks, but it's too long ago for me to say for sure.

His family moved away. I saw him again once, at church. I was 14? I couldn't believe it, he looked exactly the same. I had a short conversation with him, and he acted exactly the same. Then my folks had to leave and that was that.

Hope he had a good life. I can't remember his name.
 

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The only boyfriend I ever had was the one I married, but I did have a couple of marriage proposals from other boys. The first one was when I was six years old. His name was Louis, he was black -- the first black family in our town, and since this was basically a bush village in Alaska, almost the first black people I had ever seen. He was a nice boy, but I turned him down because I had a crush on another little boy, the son of the pastor of my aunt and uncle's church. Last I heard, Louis was still living there -- one of my brothers ran into him one day a few years ago, and they talked. My brother apologized for something he'd said when we first met Louis, something about thinking he must never wash (an understandable comment from a little boy who had never seen such a dark skin -- especially when you know that my brother nearly had his hide scrubbed off one time until my mother realized the dark color on the back of his neck wasn't dirt, it was tan!). I don't know if Louis remembers that proposal -- I haven't seen him since I was about ten.

Then there was one of our neighbor boys, on the homestead next to ours. He came down the creek in his canoe a couple of times when I was about eight or nine, and he was around twelve, and took me out on the lake with him, choosing me over my brothers, which pleased me immensely, since my brothers frequently refused to let me do things they considered manly stuff, like row a boat (and they were both younger than I was, which made it worse, LOL!) He never proposed, but maybe would have if we'd stayed there, who knows. It's not as if there were all that many other girls around!

The one that makes me the saddest, though, was while I was in college. I went to Sheldon Jackson College in Sitka, Alaska. It started out as a Native boarding school, and when we were there about half the students were Native. One young man, housed in the male half of our dorm (two locked doors between the girls and the boys at night), was Eskimo, from one of the villages. He was good looking and a sweet young man, when he wasn't drinking, but he had a serious problem with alcohol. He told us one time that his father started putting whiskey in his bottle when he was a toddler. He had a girlfriend at college, but started hanging around me a bit, too, which was rather disconcerting for me. I knew about his drinking problem, and his girlfriend, and had no experience with boys or drinking or the dynamics of boy/girl relationships. (I was a very naive 17-y-o when I went to college.) One evening some of us were watching television in the student lounge, which was used by both sides of the dorm, and this young man came and sat down by me and asked me to marry him; he had been drinking. I think I gave some non-committal answer and escaped to my room shortly afterwards. After that I tried to avoid him -- it wasn't that I didn't like him (as a friend), but wasn't sure how to deal with him and all his issues. He didn't come back to college the next semester. A few years later we were talking to a friend, and learned that the young man had ended up in prison, for murdering his wife, and it was believed he'd died in a prison fight. It was such a waste, and still makes me sad to think about it.

Other than a boy who used to throw sawdust down the back of my neck while we were waiting for the bus when I was in Jr. High, and another one who reached out and touched my hair as he went past my desk in class one day, that's the total extent of my 'romantic' experience other than with my husband!

Kathleen
 

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Two great loves in my life, before I met my hubby. The first one I met at 12. We hung out together and rode bikes, and he kissed me. Then I moved away and we broke up. When I was 15 I moved back and he and I dated for 6 years. We even had an apartment for a short time. But although we loved each other, we were too young to make it work. We partied too much, and got in arguments that ended up physical, and were irresponsible with money, and didn't know how to love like adults. And now he's a minister.....after all the wild running around and drinking, the sleeping around and other stuff, he finally found the path he was meant to be on. To my knowledge he's never married.

The other one was when I was 22. We were completely nuts about each other, and I've never loved with that much passion and abandon. We had everything in common, and spent every moment together. Within 6 months we were talking about marriage and getting engaged. My feet barely touched the ground, I was so happy. And then he got cold feet. He still wanted me, but wanted to be able to date other girls too. But after that kind of love, you can't back it off to just casual. So he broke my heart in a million pieces, and I swore I'd never love again. I dated a bunch of other guys casually after that, and kept my heart guarded and closed. He married someone else and got divorced a year later. I have no idea where he is today.

But when my husband came along, I realized that he was all the things the other guys could never be - faithful, gentle, committed, mature, loving, good provider, great father, smart, handsome. We've been together 22 years, and God was just saving the best man for me until I had enough experience and maturity to appreciate him. He saved the best for last.....
 

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Well, none for me: met DH at eighteen so there you have it.

But, I do have a sweet story to tell I thought some of you might get a smile out of.

When my Grandmother was young, she knew a boy named Joe. He took her to a church sponsored hayride when they were twelve, and they dated through high school. One day his car broke down and he was late getting her home one afternoon; her father went ballistic. He told her she could never see him again, and warned Joe to stay away. Joe did, and joined the army shortly thereafter. Grandma eventually moved on and met and married my grandfather, and they were married for a good 27 years before his heart gave out on him. In the meantime, Joe came home and married another gril as well and they did not have any contact for forty years.

A few years after Papa died, Grandma remarried, but she was never happy with him. After probably eight years, she divorced the man she'd married, and within two months Joe had tracked her down. He was by now a widower, and would be passing through on his way to his family reunion up north.

Grandma flat disappeared. My father and uncle and I were frantic searching for her, no idea where she'd gone; a few weeks later we got a call from her that she and Joe had decided to marry the very afternoon they reunited. :)

They've been together probably six years now, and he is wonderful; he and his wife never had children, so he's excited about my coming baby and getting to be "Grandpa". :D Grandma is cranky and cantankerous more often than not, but he is such a joker you can't help but laugh when you're around him.

They're quite the pair.
 

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This thread is 13 years old!
But since you revived it-
My one that got away is when I was 17 I found a ‘65 GTO convertible, Midnight blue, black top and interior, 4 speed. My dad wouldn’t let me get it as it needed some engine work, even though it drove fine. Well, I could do that myself anyway. I’ve always wanted one since. That would be a $50,000+ car now, so don’t think I’ll ever be that heart broken to spend the money. It was selling for $1500 back in ‘82.
 

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LOL, I) never look at the dates!!!! I sympathize with you on the auto. I sold a red '65 Mstang that I would like to have back. Not all that much money, but I loved that little beast.

On the old poxsts---One seldom saw women confessing to their pasts when I was a kid. No woman was SUPPOSED to HAVE a past. How times have changed. I did have a sweetheart who was kicked out of a fine girls school for "unladylike behavior". I guess that is some sort of confession.
 

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Three days after I graduated from High School, I was on a friends ranch in Brazil. His sister and I hit it off and began dating, walking around the village together and sitting on the porch swing together. This as good as a proposal for marriage in South America. Her father offered to build us a new house, and her mother began planning the wedding. I didn't want to get married so I jumped on a plane and came back to the states. The family owned one of the largest ranches in the state of Goias in central Brazil. One of the biggest mistakes I have ever made.
 

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20 plus years ago I met the first man I had proposed to. I had a kid by the hand, he had one in stroller and one on his belly. We hugged and then we both told our 3 year olds "That could have been you!" I think the MOB was the woman he found soon after me. Not the one he was dating when I moved on due to his cheating ;) , she was married and older. And clearly unlike me, he liked MOB more than he did his beer- last time we met prior to that was in a bar and I scored major points when he introduced me as his lost love and I countered that the bottle he held was his true love.
 

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I like when some of the old topics get re-born as there were many of great interest and of course every year so many new people join and have not had the chance to participate.

My get away story is a bit different. Every man I ever dated proposed marriage - extremely quickly. Once on a flight from Europe - met as he sat in the seat next to me and he proposed over Newfoundland. Silly man. I don't know why. Perhaps because I gave off the "not interested in marriage' vibe because non of my girl friends or co-workers got proposals (until they found the one) and they were quite interested in getting married.
They were all really nice men so they might have been those who got away but I knew that they were not the one. I recognized him the minute I saw him. He says the same and he proposed about 15 minutes into our first date. I told him not to be crazy. He kept asking and eventually I said yes because we wanted to buy a house and in those days you could not get a mortgage if you were just living together. We have been together for 48 years and married for nearly 45. He is never getting away LOL!
 

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LOL; there was a time when women got married BEFORE they moved in with a man. I refused to live with a woman before marriage---I did not want to invest my devotion to a woman who was undecided. If she was not certain that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me, to have children and make a home and family then I was not going to spend any emotional capital on her. Too easy to come by to waste time on.

I see the results of shacking up almost daily. Children who grew up without fathers, women with no support, angry and hateful people who refuse to trust anyone who MIGHT be a mate. We see them post here.
 
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