First crush: It's just a little crush, not like I faint every time we touch.

Ahhh..my first crush.


His name was Barl Cush (names have been changed to protect the "innocent"). It was 4th grade. I was just starting to get boobs. We were both in the Very Popular crowd (the first and last time I would ever be included in such an exclusive group). I crushed on him HARD aka I wrote my first name with his and drew hearts around it.

Our relationship progressed as all grade school relationships do, I told my friends, they told his friends, who told him. We became official after he told his friends he liked me too, and his friends told my friends, who told me. The CIA should seriously recruit for agents on elementary school playgrounds because that is where the information begins and ends. We never even spoke about being boyfriend and girlfriend - we just were - because that was what everybody was saying, "Teri and Barl kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G", but nothing really changed -- we continued to eat lunch together, we hung out at the local park, we rode our bikes, we might have held hands once, and there was absolutely no kissing (gross).

Then one day It happened.

I heard he liked another girl, too.

OH MY HEART, HOW IT BROKE.

"Don't worry!" said my loyal, faithful friends. "You're way prettier than her!" (Because that is what you say to your friend to make her feel better. It's in the manual.)

Apparently I wasn't (THOSE LIARS!) because soon my friends came to me and said, "He wants to date both of you." Me! A sister-wife! Before I even knew what that meant! For one day, we were both his girlfriend. Then common sense kicked in, "What the heck! (I didn't swear then) this is really messed up, I don't like him anymore!" And just like that, we were no longer kissing in the tree. At that point, it was the most tragic day of my young life.

I kind of had my revenge about 3 years later, in 7th grade. We were playing volleyball and I "accidentally" kicked him in the nuts. He called me a fat pig, which I totally wasn't (then) but I thought I was (why? do we girls do this to ourselves!) and I ended up crying in the locker room. I moved to another state at the end of 7th grade and never saw him again.

Looking back, I should have kicked him harder.


Teri Smith

teritruly@gmail.com

about.me/terismith

diaryofamadhatter.com

"Irreverrent, funny, and brilliant." - me

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