My first relationship

I've been putting this off for about a week now. I kept imagining my first post being inspiring or groundbreaking. The longer I waited the higher my expectations grew. Finally, today I decided to begin by telling you a relationship story of mine. My first relationship story in fact. This one dates back to my high school years. The names in my stories have been changed, but the events are exactly as I remember. But before I get into one of my many relationship stories let me paint a picture of who I was in my adolescence. I think its important because the boy I was back then is very far from the man I am today.

Myself as a high school freshman, how do I begin?. Well do you remember that kid with big ears, freckles, and curly hair? The one who sat in the back of the class and did not say a word? Yeah, that kid was me. I am convinced the problems I had in high school stemmed from my appearance. Now don’t get me wrong I know that a lot of teenagers have issue with their appearance. I just feel I had it worse than most. For starters, I was terribly skinny. What I mean by skinny is that my ribs were visible if I wore a T-shirt. Picture Skelitor with an eating disorder.

If you could get past my skeleton like physique then next thing you might notice would be my hair. My mother was a hair dresser so one would think that I might have ended up with beautiful man hair, like Brad Pitt. We have all seen that healthy hair that shines in the sun. Envision those long locks of hair you see on the cover of those sex novels in the check out line at the grocery store. Well my hair wasn't even close, it was thin, wiry, and curly, a lethal combination of defective hair attributes. It was everything an adolescent boy would not want on top of his head. My hair had more natural curl then a toy poodle. No matter how much gel, or moose, or hairspray I used, my hair would always spring back to its natural horrific state. On a positive note haveing a mother as a hair dresser provided me with an endless supply of beauty products. Without a doubt my bathroom could have doubled as a hair salon. The hair products where ammunition against my unruly hair. I was determined to force my hair into submission, and in doing so lead me to try every product, chemical, apparatus, and brush on the market. My hair developed into a serious obsession.

As if all that wasn't bad enough I had horrible acne. Will someone please tell me who invented pimples? Seriously, who's the comedian who thought "hey hes oozing with hormones, he is desperate for any females attention, I know lets make his face look like an open sore." It was a very ruff time for me. I naturally fell into the "grunge" or "skater" look, mostly out of necessity. Everyone in high school is required to fit into a group or click and this was no exception. I noticed most "grunge" guys dress as if they were homeless, but were still percieved as being "cool". (I still find this phenomenon with today's youth.) Even though I was young, and arguably a little ugly, I was perceptive. Plus I figured I look horrible, and I feel horrible, why not dress horrible. Pretending to be a skater was an inexpensive way to dress, and I wasn't like I was making a killing as the dishwasher at "The Cozy Kitchen". You would be amazed at how far fifty dollars goes when shopping at the Goodwill clothing store.

The salt in the wound so to speak was that on top of my acne lay millions of freckles, and I hated every last one of them. One night during my first week of class I confided with my older sister about my freckle problem. To my surprise she responded as if she had helped someone with a freckle problem before. She replaied "freckles can easily be cured by rubbing lemon juice on your face, DUH you dork." That seemed simple enough, and in the hormonal fog that I was in, actually made perfect sense. We squeezed out 6 ripe lemons into a cereal bowl and ran into the bathroom. I wet my hands in the juice and began slowly massaging my forehead. Everything seemed to be going as planned until a small droplet found its way into the corner of my pupil. The burning hit me so quickly, and with such force, that I panicked, shoving my juice soaked hands directly into my eye sockets hoping to wipe off the juice. The situation quickly began to spin out of control as I had just added fuel to the fire. I started wailing like a frightened animal caught in a steel trap. My older sister desperately tried to calm me before my mom caught wind of our lemon disaster. Desperate to not get grounded she dragged me in my helpless blind state to her bedroom closet, there she opened the door and shoved me in. I landed on a stinky pile of dirty cloths. I grabbed the closest piece of clothing (which turned out to be underwear) and used it to wipe my face. So lets recap, I am lying in dirty cloths, in total darkness, with each of my eyes burning from lemon juice. It took approximately 30 minutes of continuous crying for my pupils to properly flush out the fiery lemon juice. When my sister finally let me out she simply smiled and said "Don't tell mom or I will pound you." I took me 2 weeks figure out a way to get back at her for nearly blinding me. I am told that revenge is a drink best served cold, but I disagree. I took a nice warm dump at the bottom of her dirty cloths hamper while she was at work. I made sure to mix it up nicely before I closed the lid and bolted from her door. It took exactly 3 days before she discovered my little brown surprise and to this day has no idea how poop got in her clothing basket. It wasn't often that I had victories like that in my life. In fact, most of my life was plagued with failures up until this point. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and horribly awkward around the opposite sex.

Speaking of the opposite sex lets get to my first relationship. There I was sitting in pre-algebra, wearing my Nirvana T-shirt, staring at my desk. I was imagining I was anywhere but school, when a girl named Kelly tapped me on the shoulder. Startled by this physical contact I jumped, literally, no girl outside my own family had ever touched me before. Without my approval my body spasmed as if hit by a 400,000 volt taser gun. I tried desperately to recover, so I said the first thing that came to mind, "I thought you were a bug" I said. I thought you were a bug? What the hell did that mean? I cannot believe I just said that out loud. To my amazement, Kelly laughed and said "your funny, do you have a pencil I could barrow?"

I turned to hand her my yellow number 2 and our hands touched, it was at that precise moment that I fell in love. Silly as that was, from then on I noticed Kelly in a very new way. I picked up on anything and every thing about her. She seemed so perfect, so confident, so amazing. I had never felt this way before, I mean I had obsessed about different girls in some of my other classes. But it was always from a distance, I never spoke to them or anything. At time my only interaction with girls was imaginary. I would imagine myself talking and laughing with them. I even pictured myself as their boyfriend, or pictured sitting next to them and lunch, just normal creepy stalker stuff. My feelings for Kelly however were very different. She seemed to show a real interest in me.

After a few weeks we began talking outside of class, and before long I had been invited to her house. I remember it like yesterday. It was just below freezing and it had been raining all day. I remember watching the mud splash on the sides of the car as we pulled up to her house. When the car came to a halt Kelly pretended like she was going to climb over me to be the first one out of the car. I hesitated, hoping she would, and when she didn't I swung the door open and planted my Vans into the sticky brown mud. Without missing a beat, Kelly playfully pushed me, just as I was placing my other foot on the muddy driveway. My hands swung up through the air, grabbing for anything to keep me from falling. Luckily, I managed to grab the edge of the door just in time to stop myself from falling face first into the muddy gravel driveway. For some strange reason I laughed hysterically, I guess I was hoping this would camouflage the fact that I had just looked like a lunatic. Being so close to picking gravel and farm mud from my teeth had taken me out of my relaxed state. I did't want to ruin the already slim chance of "getting" with Kelly and coming to her house was a big step for me. I was trying my best not to appear like the complete idiot. TO BE CONTINUED......