There once was a girl who fell in love with a boy...

Today's post is mushy, gushy and is not intended for those with weak stomachs and jaded hearts.

Consider yourselves warned. 

This is our story the way I remember it...

I had been playing the violin since 4th grade and joined the Strings class at Centennial Middle School in 6th grade. I  loved playing the violin and for my age I felt that I had substantial talent. It was the one period in school where I didn't have to stress out. The only thing stressful in that class was the far too tightly wound Strings teacher, Mrs. Jensen. I found out later in life after having a few different music teachers, that tightly wound was a norm for Strings and Orchestra teachers. Regardless, Strings and Orchestra class was always a highlight of my day.

It was one of the first days of school in my 7th grade year, when he caught my eye. We were in Strings class, seated in a perfect crescent shaped row. Sitting across from me was this boy. We kept catching each others eye and on that day a crush was formed. Just a couple days later my friend Sara leaned over, between songs, and asked me if I had a crush on any boys this year. I blushed and said "Yes".  Lord only knows why, but she looked surprised and asked "Who?".  You see, I had somewhat of a reputation of being boy crazy. I kissed lots of boys in 5th grade, not as many in 6th grade but kissing was fun. At the next break between songs I quietly revealed my crush. She excitedly, and all too loudly in my opinion said "He's my neighbor!".

A few more days had passed and I quietly kept my crush to myself, and anyone who asked me if I had a crush. Sara encouraged me to write Phillip a note. "C'mon" she'd say, "he's really nice!". Finally I got  up the courage and wrote it down on paper. No less than five times as I had to carefully scrutinize how well I wrote his name, and then how nicely I signed mine. I'm sure it wound up being something sophisticated like:

    "Dear Phil,
How are you? I like you. Do you like me? Let me know if you want to go out. We can hang out at Nut-break. Please write back.
    From, Megan"


I had no clue what I was starting. As far as I knew we would "go out" for a couple weeks get tired of each other and part ways. I was wrong. This boy was different. He preferred hanging out with me during nut-break (and entire 13 minutes between 2nd and 3rd periods) rather than his all too tough 7th grade friends.  We would walk the halls hand in hand and talk, well mostly I would talk. After that all too important 2 week land mark, we both fell pretty hard for each other. We wrote notes back and forth. Called each other and talked on the phone for an hour or so a day. It was apparent to both of us that we were experiencing something different, something more than we had felt before and something that was hard for our tender 7th grade hearts to fully comprehend. We wrote plenty of love letters. In the length of a middle school romance we might as well have already been planning the wedding. No one I knew, aside from an adult, had been together for more than 3 months and there we were going strong. We were inseparable at dances, found each other so we could hold hands during school assemblies. Often exchanged notes expressing our love and amusement for one another, always interest in how the other is "doing". Nut-break became the time to look forward too. Being that we were going on 13 there were very few opportunities to actually hang out and get to know each other. We had separate lunch schedules so sitting together wasn't an option. Our time together was nut-break. After walking the school hand in hand for a month or so we realized there was a quiet corridor between the gym and 6th grade hall. Rarely would anyone, student, teacher or otherwise, have a reason to walk through this corridor. This became our spot. See that, right there between the Powerade machine and the door? That was it! Well the Powerade machine replaced a Welch's juice machine. It was the "pop machine". We knew that when the other said "pop machine" that's where we met. It's where we had our first kiss, and where we went back to kiss some more. That is until someone caught on and they ruined it all by sticking a hall monitor right across from our pop machine.


The summer before 7th grade my baby brother was born. It was a huge event that sort of rocked my world. I adored my brother and loved playing mommy to him. But it was a lot to handle, especially at that time in my life. There were a lot of things that made it even more complicated than just a new sibling. Also, because of the new addition to the family, our teeny 800 sq. ft. house that was barely large enough for my mom, sister and I, was now bursting at the seams. At some point Mom decided it was time to move and most likely it would be out of the school district we were in. Towards the end of the school year a house was chosen. With this information I was devastated. My mom, after hearing our story when meeting Phillip (again) asked if that was why I had been so "moody" during the move.  Apparently. It was on the last day of 7th grade, I decided that because I was moving so far away it just wasn't reasonable for us to embark on a "long-distance" relationship. At the time "long-distance" was a whopping 8 miles. I remember sitting in our empty except-for-a-phone, house, having the excruciating conversation with Phillip.
"I'm sorry" I'd say, "I just don't see how it can happen. How will we see each other?". I heard the sadness in his voice "Please, we'll figure out a way, don't do this...". I was crying, he was crying. We continued on this way for over an hour. Any minute my mom would be there to pick me up and it would all be over. We continued on until the inevitable. It was over. I was a mess. I had said goodbye to my first love and the first house I really considered home. 

Because we were in strings/orchestra through high school, we saw each other at various functions 2 or 3 times a school year. We would awkwardly catch each others eye, perhaps have a quick conversation. My heart would always pound like mad when I would look for and find him. At the time I had no idea that he had all the same feelings. We both have memories of watching each other from afar. We even wrote each other letters, and spoke on the phone and contemplated getting back together all the way to our Junior year in high school. The timing was never quite right. Every crush and every boyfriend I had for years was always compared to Phillip. They weren't sensitive enough, they weren't as talented, they weren't as intelligent. Eventually time won and we parted ways. Never really saying "it's over" completely. 

Actual note from 7th grade. Thanks Mom!