Written in the stars (Rewriting)

1. First love

"Opportunities will come to you, but you've gotta create then too"
***

When someone thinks of their first love, usually they think of that first petty crush before grade school. During that questionable phase of growing into the foundation of who you are to become and avoiding cooties.

When people think of their first love, they think of the first time a boy or girl smiled at them with red tinted cheeks and an adorable toothless smile.

They think of the first time some held their hand or told them that they are beautiful.
You get most people, then you get me.

When you're 17, going on 18 you'd expect to have some sort of love life that differs from the thoughts that sprung in your head while reading the last few chapters your novels of the day.

I've had my fair share of attempted flings over the past few years.
In third grade a friend of mine, Michel his name was. A short, tan boy with light freckles dancing on his face, send me a letter in the middle of math class. It was a simple note written on the small page (obviously taken from his book) with a simple: "Do you like me? Tick yes or no"
Yet just to my luck, the note was snatched and read before the whole class, leaving little Michel and me, drowning in embarrassment.

Then there was fifth grade. Zaheer, a tall brown-haired boy. We were partners in a technology project, during which he confessed his small crush and reached out to take hold of my hand, his elbow knocked down our jaws of life model and we had to start all over. Being too embarrassed, Zaheer stayed away from such close proximity to me until we finally reached that stage where we could look back and laugh at out petty childishness.

Then came seventh grade. The year before high school and the year that puberty generally kicks in.
It was a school field trip and a group of my classmates thought that it would be funny to stop their juices for alcohol and sneaked it in by putting it in their juice bottles.
Being only 13 at the time, it's quite obvious to come to the conclusion that they were indeed rather lightweights. Only half a juice bottle down and Lee, a fair dimpled boy thought it best to occupy the vacant seat next to mine. Up till this day, I can still smell the smile scent of his alcohol-induced breath that embedded itself into my sense of smell. He told me that I looked pretty in my yellow sundress and that my eyes shined brighter than the stars. Me being only 13 fell for those words hook line and sinker and stupidly nodded my head when he asked if he could kiss me.

Considering my complete lack of romance up to this point, I'm sure that anyone could assume that the kiss didn't go well. With his lack of judgment and drunken state, lee missed me completely and ended up hitting his head on the window behind me. He then came in to try again but the vile liquid that residents in him decided that it also wanted some part of me. Or at least that's what I would like the belief the reason for my black ballets slippers to be covered with vile resurfaced alcohol.

After that traumatic experience, nothing really seemed to be escalating anywhere but to average hights for me.

My life became this repetitive cycle. Wake up, read, go to school, read, come home, read, eat, homework, read and go to sleep.

When high school came, so did the peak of puberty. Boys got taller, voiced deeper and expectation higher. While girls grew curvier, prettier and their expectations morphed from their fairytale prince charming to whatever they deemed to be in their league.

I've watched couples formed, break and stay. I've watched people fall in and out of love. I've always wanted to be able to have memories like theirs. To be able to have a hand to hold, and chest to fall asleep on, but I've never wanted it like that.

For some, those petty flings of childish crush confessions would be the stories that people would share when asked about their first love. It's a story that they would share in full admiration and humor.

Maybe in most cases that could have been me as well. Maybe, just maybe what made my story different was a simple fact if meeting him.

***

So I'm back. Do I have a good reason for being away? No. Am I going to hope that everyone just forgives me? Hell yeah!

So I started the story over. Those who have been here long enough to remember the old version, THANK YOU SO BLOODY MUCH!

And for you newer readers, welcome! I hope that you guys like what you read. If you don't, do tell me. If you do, then do tell others.

Don't forget to vote, share or comment.

Xoxo
R.Q.N