My first crush

I was tiny, a child, maybe 3 or 4 years old. I don’t know.

His name was Johnny. He was not a child. He was a grown man, the son of one of my parents friends. I have no idea how old he was, but he wasn’t an ‘older boy’, he was a proper grown up.

He was a in the navy, I must have seen in him in his uniform at least once. I remember it clearly. He was tall and slim and ever so handsome in his whites (photos bear this out, I had good taste even then).

I have no recollection what was so great about him, but oh, I had such a crush on him.

At that age, I imagine a crush was all about trying to get his attention and approval. Probably being shy one minute and showing off the next, “Look, Johnny, LOOK AT ME!!”

I was insanely jealous when he would pay attention to my sister, but I knew, really, that I was the favourite (I have no idea if that was true, but I still thought it).

There is an old photo of us at a pool. He is holding me in the crook of his arm, my face level with his. We are both smiling at the camera, I have one hand wrapped around his neck, the other is up in the air in triumph. If I was going to caption it, I’d put “Fuck yeah!!” *laugh*.

It’s adorable, and I look pleased as punch. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I looked kind of smug.

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6 Comments

  1. I remember my first crush. She was my first grade teacher, a beautiful young lady with blond hair and blue eyes and when we had to bring our homework assignments up to her desk, I would always try to be one of the last ones up there so I could linger a bit and hope she would look up at me from her work and smile.

    Sometimes, I would tell her that she was pretty, without the slightest bit of fear or embarrassment,that the other kids might be listening. A crush can make you do stuff like that.

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