My love life (part 1)

I began having crushes from the age of 5. The subjects of my crushes were usually girls who didn't like me, like the one who used to bully me in kindergarten, or girls who were a bit older than me, like Krista, that loud but beautiful sister of a friend of mine. She wore braces, that's all I remember of her physique, now.

 When I was 10 years old, I took a serious liking to Sarah, a classmate of my sister, who was already in her teens. I'd always admired her beautiful eyes and had never spoken to her before. I once told my sister that anytime I saw her , my heart missed a couple of beats. She organised a type of play date one Wednesday afternoon for me and her after I confessed that I liked her. We met in front of my school in the 17th arrondissement of Paris . As soon as I saw Sarah with my sister, I sped off in the opposite direction as fast as my legs could carry me... Not that fast, because they soon caught up with me.

"Don't be shy, Billy, " Sarah said. Now, one secret about me is that when my first name is mentioned whilst talking to me! I take it as a sign of affection and all other emotions melt away. I was shy because it was completely out of the ordinary for me to interact closely with someone I fancied. We played "chat bisou", an "it" game where I would chase sarah, catch her and give her a peck on the cheek, then she'd be "it'!

 Later that afternoon, we went to my Parisian flat, which I shared with my sister and my mother. Throughout the date my sister chaperoned us. Sarah was a french girl in my sister's secondary school whose beauty overrode my reasoning to the core. Though I tried to communicate to her that my heart was all hers to steal as much as she wanted, my non-verbal communication skills lacked the much-needed vocabulary to convey my innermost feelings.

The year was 1988. I was hoping to have my first kiss on that day. Unfortunately, my dream of a first kiss wasn't  to materialise until 17 years later.

 After we said our goodbyes and promised a follow up date, I wrote to her on an A4 piece of paper, which I filled with drawings and red hearts. I told her I wanted to marry her and live the rest of my life with her. She replied the following day through my sister who was our carrier pigeon. The paper she wrote on was much smaller than mine. It was sky blue with lines on it. In the middle of it was a large poorly drawn heart, painted red. From the words in the letter, she enjoyed the time spent with me, she called me the prince of her heart, told me I was the handsome prince of her heart and that she loved me.

 I couldn't believe it, it was too good to be true. I, of all the boys in the world, had the best girl! I felt strange sensations in my chest whenever I thought of her. The next day, I felt on top of the world at my primary school. I felt special, mature and felt that I had finally found something to live for...

Then, I had an argument with my sister that week over something I can't quite recollect. In a moment of blind rage, she spilled the beans. "I contracted Sarah to pretend she loved you just to give u a social life and to boost your self esteem!" She said. "I bought her sweets in exchange for that date. She don't love you one bit. She's got a handsome blond haired 17 year old boyfriend with broad shoulders. Why would she want to go out with a "gringalet" like you?!?"

That burst my bubble. I'd been living a one sided lie of a love affair. I never replied to that letter. I did see Sarah a couple of times but we never spoke at length, just a hello here , a hi there. Her family became friends with my family and we often invited them to our parties and celebrations. I never asked her of her new boyfriend. She never spoke of him. But I would forever remember her and the meer fleeting thought of her would always, always cause my heart to skip a beat or two...

 By now she must be married, maybe divorced and remarried...a lot older, life must have put its strain on her, robbing her of her teenage glow. But in my minds eye, she's still the ridiculously pretty 13 year old girl I had my first and most powerful crush on...frozen in time, forever young, eternally loved, perpetually preserved. The following year, my class went on a 3-week excursion to the countryside region of Franche-Comté . We joined another school on this horse riding expedition. Among the things I loved from this experience are the horses, ( I can still list them by name and in order of their boxes in the stable), songs by the fireside, fresh unprocessed whole milk for breakfast, straight from the cows udders. I also loved Albane. Albane was a girl from the other school. She was the first person with Down's Syndrome I'd ever met. She had a thing for boys and she would try to kiss them whenever she had the chance. She never tried it on me, though. She never took notice. They would pull faces in disgust, wipe their cheeks and poke fun at her. At first, I found her awkward and off putting, then with time, I began to wish we were friends. There was something that brought us together... Loneliness and rejection. I never told a soul about my feelings for Albane. What would people think? One guy asked her during lunch, when we shared a table" Why are you not normal?" An anger rose within me. I wanted to pounce on the boy. But I didn't. I kept to myself. Rumours began circulating that people with "mongolism" ( that's how they called it at the time) die at 18 I felt sad for her. I missed numerous opportunities to introduce myself to Albane; one of these opportunities was when I went to the playground to use the swings. I was alone, with the exception of a tall girl with waist length hazel hair on the swing, chatting to an imaginary friend. I watched her from a distance. She was beautiful to watch... then walked away. It wasn't until the end of the excursion that I realise I'd had a crush on her. I thought about her for years afterwards. Thoughts that she knew my name and that things had worked between us.