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This is a question My first love

I can't remember her name. Rebecca I think. We used to play monkeys in the rhododendron bushes at the edge of the big playground. She was lovely. We were 5.

C'mon, tell us about your first love

(, Thu 20 Oct 2005, 10:31)
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Anatomical shock
First girl I felt something for was Briony Smith. I'm not sure how it happened but it was through Briony, we were about six, that I discovered girls didn't have willies.

I yearned for her. I even suggested she could have a sweet for a kiss. She had a lovely friend called Michelle Yung as well.

Then I got into football and stuff.

My last memory of Briony was when I was playing in a mud patch with my brother. On seeing her I got to my feet and wiping the crap from my hands said: 'Hello.' She smiled awkwardly. We were about nine at the time.

In my teens I used to see Michelle at Huddersfield Town games selling programmes.

I never bought one.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 22:02, Reply)
turned out to be gay.

(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 21:29, Reply)

(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 21:12, Reply)
40 Degrees Fast Spin
I fell for my first love when I was 12 on a school trip to Whitby. He spent the weekend mocking me and dragging me around arcades.

When we returned to school I did the usual 12 year old thing of telling the school big mouth that I fancied him knowing it would get out and save me having to do the embarassing thing of talking to him. We then spent about 3 months avoiding the issue and blushing when anyone mentioned it.

He still took great pleasure in mocking me endlessly, including telling me he was going to stick my cat in the washing machine, even to the point of writing a song called 40 degrees, Fast Spin with his mate. Then one day I had particularly bad PMT and he was annoying me on the school bus so I told him to go forth and multiply. He looked up sadly and said "So you don't fancy me anymore?"

For the next 5 years we had a friendship which mostly involved him being horrid to me and me bitching at him.

In a typical teenage boy way he would turn up at my house with a bunch of his mates eat us out of house and home and we would sit and watch horror movies. My mum is really good friends with his Aunty and takes great pleasure in announcing at family gatherings that they could have been related. God, my mother is good at embarassing me.

Two years ago he came into the nightclub where I worked, and I went bright red and giggled like a school girl. So, so, shameful.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 20:52, Reply)
My first real love and b/f was a short half-Turkish Trotskyist fellow with a goatee, beret, and ambitions at world domination. I was 16 and very naive, especially seeing as the year before he had gone out with three of my best friends in quick sucession. It was a year later and I thought he might have changed, even as he kissed me and told me about his ambitions (perfectly seriously) to take over a small South American country to start off with, y'know, work up to the biggie.

Needless to say, it didn't last long, and I was heartbroken. After far too long, I got over him and went on with my life...

I met up with him recently. Last year I'd found out that after spending two months in America, he'd hooked up with someone, and they'd got engaged. We were all shocked, but fascinated in a car crash watching kind of way. Then there was silence. Finally, this year I got through to him, and we met up. All my mates were waiting with baited breath to see what had become of him -

First I got this text message:
'Greetings. Fishing bodes well this evening. I see carp. But I may be a little...short of punctual virtues but shorter than a tuna crows 10 time, once a minute'

I accordingly re-adjusted by brain to his kind of wavelength. By the time I arrived I was primed to talk utter bollocks fluently and without blinking (or twitching, fitting, or otherwise acting abnormally abnormally). Through the miasma of everything else, I was able to ascertain that yes, he really was still married! I was impressed. However, he was living with his parents (and with her...and a dog and some kittens etc) and was working for Harringey council distributing wheeled zimmerframes and commodes. Oh, and I think that somewhere not so deep down he really does want to take over a South American country and become an absolute dictator.

One of my friends emailed me this reply to my account of the evening for them:

BLOODY HELL HAMPSTER!! omg i really had no idea about ne of that! imagine if we got married 2 him, all of us. i can imagine that, him with 4 wives living with his parents and cats and dogs and us all at home while he works 4 the council....damn! thats really unbelievable!

I love her.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 20:37, Reply)
I was about seven or eight, she was probably six. Her brother was my best mate. Her mates knew I thought she was "nice." I, of course, didn't have the guts to tell her. One day in the square, as I was playing on my skateboard, they stopped me in the path. Flanked by her eight-year old bodyguards they demanded an answer from me. "Do you want to go out with her or not?" I tried to stammer an answer but the pressure was too much.
In an attempt to clam my nerves, they gave me a simple non-verbal way out. Hold up two fingers for no, three for yes.
(No, seriously)
I cunningly held up two fingers for a moment before admitting the truth and flipping the third finger up beside it's two brothers. While they oohed, aahed and cackled I took my chance to escape any more embarrassment, figuring I could go talk to her alone later, now the biggest hurdle was over. I kicked off on my skateboard (4.99 Woolworths), got a few metres, hit a crack in the pavement, fell off, smacked my forehead into the ground and spent the night in hospital with concussion and a bump the size of an ostrich egg on my noggin.
We never got it on after that.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 19:38, Reply)
My first love
I love lamp.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 18:20, Reply)
My first love?
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 17:54, Reply)
My first love
Will be the next bint I'm trying to hump. And once I have they wont.

You'll get over it
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 15:14, Reply)
And they called it puppy lovvvve....
I was 5 He Was 6, with blonde hair blue eyes relativley cute. He had a red crayola carrying case for his crayones. He said i could hold it if i let him kiss me. I moved house afterwords and dint see him til we ended up at the same secondary school. I asked him to be my boyfriend and he said No. Hes now i junkie. If hed only said yes maybe hed have been a diffrent person......

proper teenage love was when i was 12/13 and i started fumbling about with my neighbour dougie, who dumped me for the other girl on the street lorna. then i started going out with his mate craig. then dougie dumped lorna for me and i dumped craig for dougie then dougie dumped me and when i went back to craig it turns out he was gay......

Too cynical for that undying *I want to spend the rest of my life with you* bullshit
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 15:06, Reply)
The only person I've always loved...
My son, Demigod*. Yeah, I guess you'd have seen that one coming, but he's the first person I've loved from first setting my eyes on until forever. I'll always remember holding him in a little white hospital blanket and looking into his eyes when he was but an hour old. He's seven now, and still makes me feel like that.

Oh, and Mrs. God's everyso lovely too, and I love her lots as well. While I'm on the subject.

* Names changed to protect the innocent. After all, teh Gary Glitter may be watching!
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 14:47, Reply)
my first love?
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 14:23, Reply)
A lucky escape.
My first love was called Gareth. He was the bad boy of the school and my lust bordered on the psychotic. I suppose I was a mini-stalker. I engineered meetings and I was always in the same place he was. He had a look of Donnie Wahlburg from New Kids on the Block, so henceforth I covered all my schoolbooks and folders in pictures of Donnie and perfected copying a cartoon of Donnie from Smash Hits and drew it everywhere. I sat as close to him as I could in lessons, and several teachers warned me of him, more of less saying he was a twat and I was too good for him. I think they had visions of me getting pregnant by him and either being a single mother at 16 or stuck in a grotty council house with him.
All my friends (naturally) said we were made for each other and teh constant brush-offs were a sign that deep down he loved me too.
Eventually, as we got older and neared the end of High School, things began to happen. At 13 I had my first kiss with Gareth.....I was walking home with him and the usual crowd of friends, and I was applying some lip gloss that came free with Just Seventeen that week and he kissed me.
Anybody who was anybody went to the Youth Club on a Friday for the disco, having got tanked up on TNT, MD20/20, Diamond White and K Cider beforehand, and we got into a pattern of walking down for the last bus together, and stopping on the way for a snog and a fumble. Of course this just fuelled me into a frenzy, thinking we were going to start being girlfriend and boyfriend, but of course Gareth denied it on Monday at school, called me a nutter and ignored me until the next Friday disco when the whole thing happened again.
He would flirt with other girls to make me jeleous and I would flirt with other boys to annoy him.
In teh summer after we left school, on a sunday afternoon in July, I lost my virginity to Gareth. It was very disapointing.
We saw each other about town in the pubs and clubs after we left school. I heard he had 2 kids with a girl we used to go to school with.
Then I heard he had ended up in Armley after an incident involving his girlfriend and some bloke who he accused of going with her.
I ended up a policewoman and fucking grateful I never ended up his proper girlfriend.
I saw him a few months ago.
He said he had always loved me at school and did I fancy a shag.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 13:32, Reply)
here i go my first love,
age 17 ginger girl total fucking headcase loved playing mindgames however was as thick as 2 short planks nailed to a wild rhino, so would forget her schemes part way through. Nice body however so went out with her for a few months till i got bored. low and behold randomly met her 2 years on in town so set up for some more random sex with a smattering of "ill kill myself" and "you drove me to this" and "ill leave you", all i ever did was let her live in my house rent free and never ask her to lift a finger for 2 months? big mistake
Well after my 19th birthday 3 day bender of drink and drugs and part way through her throwing her drink over my best mate cos she thought he was coming between us, i went home and packed her stuff, left it on the lawn had the locks changed and went back to the club we were in all in 2 hrs, then we all went home early leaving her alone as i was walking out i glanced across the dancefloor saw her on the stage sucking some random guys face.
The view out of the front window was awesome at 5am on a sunday morning when the police were called to remove A D+D woman from our front garden revenge is a wonderful thing

jus so u all dont think im some mega evil bastard i have been goin out with my current lady for well over a year now we have matching tattoo`s and we are still very much in love despite my addiction to World of warcraft (im 24 in 10 days)ppl keep tellin me to grow up but all i say is fuck yourself
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 13:11, Reply)
My first love
It was 1976. She shall remain nameless (although her name was Debbie).

We were both 12. We walked around for a few weeks, holding hands and thinking pure thoughts.

Then she dumped me. No reason given.

Just recently I decided to look her up on Friends Reunited, just to see what she was doing now.

She is still single.

I feel smug.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 12:40, Reply)
First TRUE love
10 year old Vauxhall Cavalier, 1.8 injection engine. More broken things than an orthopedic waiting room, 0-60 in about a week but my god do I love it.
You just can't beat ur first car!
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 12:03, Reply)
Sorry, I'm boring ...
Another primary school one.

We were both 6. I was quite a ... strange child ... and liked biting absolutely everything I could. I won him by chasing him down, leaping on him and nipping his ear.

He was charmed and told me I could be one of his 14 girlfriends.


This wouldn't do. I hit him, knocked him down and spent the rest of that lunch break sulking.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 11:15, Reply)
Her name was Yuffie.
Sure, she was a ninja/thief and she did take all of my materia, but I still loved her!
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 7:49, Reply)
I loveded you, Pascal! I loveded you!
Yeah, I had no love life.

I was the only (reasonably-aged, of course) girl on a block full of small, virile boys, so I got plenty of unwanted kisses, incidents of Too Much Information, and the occasional marriage proposal- (Think Bart Simpson's- 'But to save on parking, I'll drive while you sleep! We'll never, ever stop!' proposal. Not much good. ) but my first love was a very, VERY hot (Well, for 4th grade) new boy named Pascal. The archetypal tall, dark, handsome, suit-wearing bastard. He wrote me touching poems, but dumped me brutally in front of my mom. For my best friend.

Give me my lethal injection, please.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 4:38, Reply)
Ahh... my first love
I remember her well: long golden locks, perfect smile, gorgeous body..

The pages got stuck together and she was lost forever.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 3:02, Reply)
It's another true love story (well it's TRUE at least)
OK, so most people put this at the end, but Apologies for length - here goes:

She was just another girl in another class, but aged 6 I moved classes for being "disruptive". It was then I met the girl who became the woman who has caused me to waste half my life*.

We shall call her X, or perhaps Catherine, as that is her name. If you are reading this and you recognise yourself, well "Hi". Please let me know what you have been doing for the last 5 years...

First day in the new class, there she was. We did everything together. Sat next to each other in class, sometimes; giggling in the corner. Put school chalk down the toilet and drew rude pictures of naughty cats on the walls.

My one ambition at the end of Infant school was to kiss her, and it was fulfilled only on moving to the juniors. My other ambition in life was to be a train driver. Well that had to wait another 14 years and I am now unemployed again so you could say I have done everything so now I can look forward to becoming senile and incontinent before choking to death on an undercooked brussels sprout in the old people's home aged 78. Only 50 years to go, bring it on!

The junior school building was the same as the infants, only the cloakrooms had been converted into two extra classrooms, so our class had a funny half-cupboard, half-corridor kind of room out the back. I would meet Catherine at lunch-times for a secret kiss fuelled by the passion only 7-year-olds can share (just ask Gary Glitter :o) ).

We visited each other's houses (our mothers knew each other from work) and on her 8th Birthday I gave her a card filled with as many kisses (xxx) as an 8-year-old can fit in in his smallest writing.

I had my entire life planned. I would leave school at 16 and join British Rail and have my own branch line a bit like Thomas the Tank Engine. Catherine could work in the buffet car and make tea for the passengers. When the train arrived at the seaside we could go for a picnic on the beach before driving back again. We would save up our wages from the railway and get married, but instead of buying a house we would get an old sleeper carriage and put it on the back of our train and live there.

Anyway back to reality, and aged 9 I was on my own again. A new boy came to the school became my best friend and secretly loved Catherine as well. The two of them never dated or anything but from then on we were only "friends" again.

I would often move across the class to sit at her table and we would still do special school projects together. Story assignments would normally involve her in some way. For example a story about spaceships involved Catherine being kidnapped by a UFO and me flying out to rescue her. (Film rights are for sale if interested BTW.)

Aged 11 we had to move on to Senior School. only 5 years to go before British Rail and our white wedding beckoned. Then she decided to go to an all-girls school.

Major Bummer.

Fast forward to the summer holidays, I am now 15. I saw Catherine most mornings as her route to school passed the end of my road. The fact I used to sneak out of school early and stand at the end of the road just to wave and say "hi" as she sped past is largely irrelevant.

Anyway, two weeks before the end of the holidays, My next door neighbour David and me are out shopping for records. (CDs being a new "fad" at the time). Catherine is in Woolworth's looking for a CD which has sold out. It just so happens that David has two copies because he bought one with his pocket money, and then got one as a present, so agrees to sell the other one to Catherine at a knock-down price.

We agree to go round her house with the CD the next day. Off we go then. Catherine has a huge poster and has invited all her friends to write their phone numbers on the white border round the edge. David's writing is illegible and he smudges the number. Mine is crystal clear, with a little heart over the "i" in my name (i.e. real name not my b3ta username).

Next day the phone rings and I nearly drop it in my tea. I am being invited round to see Catherine. Every day until the end of the holidays I am round there. Bliss? perhaps...

I then start work experience. Still every Monday and Wednesday I am there. One day at my school I see her at the bus stop."Why are you here?" (it's the next town) - "Oh, I am dating (a sad gimp called NIGEL)". For fuck's sake NIGEL? So when Nigel dumps her I phone him up and play the funeral march down the phone on her mum's piano. Cue two years of bullying from his mates when they find out who it was. Every bruise was worth it, for I was defending the honour of my lady love.

The next bit is a bit of a blur, details are lost. But I start college, and find out she is dating some utter gimp on my college course. Apologies to the bloke concerned. I'm sure some people would have called me a "gimp" when I was at college and I'm sure he's a nice bloke really, it's just, at the time, anyone dating her who wasn't me was automatically a "gimp" in my book. Believe me, it's a thick book.

One day comes the tearful phone call that he has dumped her. I stuff my fist in my mouth and mutter something like "I'm sorry to hear that" whilst trying to disguise the fact I am dancing a merry jig around the room shouting "woo-hoo!".

So I go round and do the "never mind, don't cry" bit, but of course the time is not right to jump right in with "let's run away, join British Rail and get married" so I bite my tongue.

Next is Bad News. British Rail is to be privatised. Half the dream is gone. Let's get busy and remind her of my undying love. Of course I have to wait for the right moment...

The "right moment" comes. A couple of stiff drinks carefully "borrowed" from Dad's drinks cabinet and round I go. "Hi, what's up?" I ask "Do you know (insert boys name here) ?", she says, "He's my new boyfriend".

Repeat as above, about 10 times. I have a crack in my broken heart like the Liberty Bell and it's not getting any better.

Then what? I meet new friends, go to different places, and on Catherine's 18th Birthday, I am in my dad's car, in a layby in some tiny village in the middle of nowhere, snogging some bored easy village girl with a made-up name. I feel so guilty for "cheating" and I promise never to do it again. I think this has affected my love life ever since. There are trappist monks who could call me inexperienced...

Later, after the parents threw me out, I got my own flat and on my moving-in day my first visitor is the lovely Catherine. First visit of many, the beginning of true love? Bollocks. She never came round again.

Then I share a bachelor pad with my best mate, after losing the v-plates in the back of my car with his missus. Before you ask it was his idea. Some blokes like that kind of thing apparently. Two weeks later they meet me from work and this innocent 17-year old gets her first spit-roast.

First day in new "bloke" house I drop a moving card to the lovely Catherine. "She's not here" say her Mum, "she's in London at University". Never saw that one coming. BANG!

Best mate and his missus get married, have two kids, get divorced.

Meanwhile I am off in Mum's borrowed car driving to a party to celebrate Aunty somebody's wedding anniversary. Miss the turn off the Motorway, and end up at Catherine's student house. Pop in to say hello. I give her a lift to a dodgy pub in Dagenham where I get introduced to....

wait for it...


Didn't see that one coming, did I? Having laid awake for about three nights just repeating the words "oh fuck!" over and over again I finally got used to the idea. At least it's not some dodgy bloke. It was easier to cope with in some non-threatening way, the same way that women love gay blokes I suppose. I guess I was some kind of lesbian's fag-hag.

So being dragged round the gay pubs of London I thought "well, why not?" but it was not for me so I went back to being lonely, single and straight.

Some people say there is no such thing as the "right moment". Even if there is then the fast lane of the M1 Northbound just past Luton is probably not it. Just driving in the car, I could bear it no longer I finally burst out a declaration of my undying love.

Her reaction? "I knew all along". Thanks. Unfortunately now I had been a "friend" too long and she didn't want to ruin it. Nice - NOT! Well, the friendship continued, perhaps a little enhanced by the fact I was in love with her and she knew it. Sex was definitely off the menu which made sleepovers at her house frustrating to say the least. Cuddles and kisses were in, but no tongues please.

Walking hand-in-hand whilst shopping was fun, because I could pretend - and most people passing by would think we were married or something. Standing outside the changing rooms in clothes shops with the "other" husbands they must have thought we were "just married" because when their wives came out they said "yes dear, whatever", but I was full of compliments and even smiled whilst I was paying :o)

Then I joined the Railways, or what was left of them, and was pleased to hear I could get free travel, including the service which went within ½ mile of her house... So one day I have a ride with the Driver and go and see her.

I try to forget the new boyfriend she has met at Uni (so much for Lesbian sisterhood then). I meet her in the kitchen in the house next door where she used to do the cleaning for the businessman who lived there. She was dressed in just some old clothes for doing the housework, but to me she was the most beautiful woman in the world, ever. It was as if I was coming home from a hard day's work on the Railway, and here was my lovely wife waiting for me at home.

Never mind, eh?

Eventually I say goodbye on the doorstep, like the goodbye kiss of a husband on his way to work. At that exact moment, the Hatfield Rail crash happened, miles away, and the railways were all messed up for ages, and it was down to that I met Ruth. She was married, but not to me, but that is another story.

That was 5 years and 5 days ago and I have never seen Catherine since. She has never phoned, written, texted, e-mailed, but then neither have I. All I have are memories, and a 6x4 photo of her which I use as a bookmark between pages 86 and 87 of the London A-Z.

If there are any ladies out there, single, aged 20-35, who like railways and don't mind being called "Catherine" in the heat of passion, please get in touch.


* Did I say half my life? At last count it would be three-quarters. Sorry.

Apologies for length... Well, you can't say I didn't warn you! Think yourself lucky you've only got the short version.

Here she is:

Click to see her in all her 800x600 pixelly glory

Comments, marriage proposals, recommendations of good shrinks to the e-mail address in my profile, please.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 1:47, Reply)
My first love was Robbie, and i was 4 years old. I used to chase him around in the sprinklers at our pre-school and we only had pants on, and my god, it was great. his twin brother always piddled himself, which is why I liked Robbie instead.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 1:41, Reply)
First love...
My fist
'Nuf said

leangth: 4 miles
Girth: 7 miles
Circumferance: 3cm
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 1:01, Reply)
My first love at 1st sight was
Susan Jones. Hamilton Middle School. She bought me a mug with my name on. She was gorgeous.....
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 0:57, Reply)
The thing that loved me back the most:
My Super Nintendo.
(, Sat 22 Oct 2005, 0:29, Reply)
Ahh, 7 year olds in love
First love, Amber, back in the 80's

she was my best friend, loved the WWF, knew all the lyrics to every song on the just released New Kids On the Block Album... and asked me to kiss her if I was going to be her boyfriend someday.

She said I was all slobbery like a dog, so I pushed her off the swing and pulled her chair out from under her in class... my first ever detention!!! I've been a bad boy to girls ever since.
(, Fri 21 Oct 2005, 23:32, Reply)
Melissa....Sweet Melissa
I was 13 years old and in love with Melissa.

I then found out she'd done the rounds of b3ta and packed things in! :-)

(seriously, how many of them are about a girl called Melissa?)
(, Fri 21 Oct 2005, 23:31, Reply)
I have never been in love I dont think
But i've fancied the arse of a lot of people and been out a with a few, but they all hate me. All of them.

(, Fri 21 Oct 2005, 23:22, Reply)
1st love...
My first love was a lovely boy called Gregg when I was in infant school. He didn't love me back. But we are still very good mates to this day.

Thinking about it, I have spent my entire life loving men who don't want me back. So, if anyone could find it in their heart to love a 25 year old 5ft4 brunette, who, granted is a bit overweight but working on it, but has fairly large breasts and doesn't expect much from a bloke...do let me know.
(, Fri 21 Oct 2005, 23:15, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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