Tell us about your first love

by Simon Wilson

My years at preparatory school from the age of eight until thirteen were fraught with love problems from the moment I realised at eleven that there was more to girls than just pulling their hair.

My first foray into dating the opposite sex began when I sat opposite Heather Wilcox in the forth form.  She had shortish black hair and the brownest eyes I’d ever seen.  Even in the drab greys that were our school uniform she exuded an energy that captivated me.  I wasn’t sure why it hadn’t been there last term or exactly what this new quality was – but it was there now and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I’ve never been great at making first moves and given that this was my first first move, so to speak, it was weeks before I acted upon it.  In the meantime I carried out as much research as possible in order to better my chances of success.  In reality the research consisted of asking my best friend Mike Bradshaw over and over again ‘Should I ask her?’  I’m surprised we remained friends, the amount of mental pain I must have put him through.  But it was so important and I had to get the initial approach just right.  After asking a few of the more experienced ‘older boys’ in the years above me and getting nothing but ridicule and chubbies (pinched cheeks until your skin turned blue) I elected to write Heather a letter.

Now this letter had to be perfect and after a week or more of screwing up paper and starting again, I had it down to a ‘t’.  It read:

Dear Heather,

I love you.

Simon XXXXXXX

I kept it in my pocket for another three days before I summoned the courage to finally give it to her.  Well not exactly, I summoned up the courage to give it to Bradshaw to give it to her.  Almost the same!  The handing over of the letter had to happen whilst I was out of sight and so I hid myself in my dormitory and waited.  An hour later the ever reliable Bradshaw brought me a perfumed letter with Heather’s response.  My heart was beating like on a Christmas morning before opening my first present.  It read:

Dear Simon,

I love you too.

Heather XXXXXXX

We were an item.  Perhaps we’d marry, I didn’t know.  It was early days.  I couldn’t have felt better.  My life was perfect.  As I read the letter over and over, Bradshaw walked off in disgust.  He didn’t understand.

For three days Heather and I could not be parted.  We were in love, and although I couldn’t yet find the courage to attempt to kiss her, I was confident that in the next few weeks or at least by next term, I would be ready to take that leap.

Unfortunately, James Nelson, of the fifth form had no such problems in kissing her and being a year older also came with the added cool that I could not provide.  The letter read:

Dear Simon,

It’s over.

Heather.

I cried a bit – make that a lot.  She was my first love and I’ll never forget her.

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Genre – Memoir

Rating – PG

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