Friday the Thirteenth

I am going to tell you guys about my first love tonight.

Well, he wasn’t really my first love at the time but when I look back my first first love seems pretty damn lame.  I am allowed to edit my own history.  It’s not like I’m pulling A Million Little Pieces here.

Anyway, the man I refer to as X.  When he was still a boy, he hung out with my burnout friends.  They were hilarious girls and he dated every single one of them, ending in me.  I had this silly crush on him the whole time because I had huge crushes on most of his burnout friends, ending in him.  I remember the first time I noticed X in the halls, with his T-boz haircut and painted nails and Jncos and Korn shirt.  Ah, youth.

Basically, we hung out a bit and he had just broken up with, I don’t know, I think V, maybe A.  One night he asked me to the movies with him and his friend Chicken to see the theatrical rerelease of The Exorcist and I went, as a friend.  He borrowed his mom’s car and picked me up then Chicken.  I should have known that something was up when he bought my movie ticket.  I didn’t, because I was dumb.  We had had one of those summers where we talked a lot online.  He was going through stuff with whichever one he was dating and I was complaining ceaselessly about my kinda boyfriend.  (He had another girlfriend.  I was sure I could steal him.  It never worked.  I was a shitty 16 year old.)  Anyway, I figured it was a friend thing because Chicken was there and then in the middle of the movie he held my hand and I kind of started freaking.  Then he dropped Chicken off and drove me home and kissed me.  Man, it was a horrible kiss.  Still, he kissed me.

The following week was ridiculously awkward.  Like, holding hands while nobody looked and all of my burnout friends being really suspicious and asking me what I was doing and me just being completely flabbergasted by the whole thing.  We drove an hour after school one day to get, like, the new Limp Bizkit album and listened to it all of the way home.  And kissed again.  And the whole time I was like, “Isn’t he ever going to ask me to be his girlfriend??”

Then it was Friday the 13th in October, 2000, full moon.  We went to haunted barn with Bestie and her boyfriend at the time.  (Her bf was supposed to work the barn because it was put on by 4H and he was the 4H king that year.  Kid you not.)  Afterward, we leaned against my car and made out because that’s just what you do in high school when you have a bitching car.  And right there, right after the haunted bar, he asked me to be his girlfriend.  He told me that he waited for the full moon because he knew how much it meant to me and it was so so romantic to little Living Dead Rachael.

Throughout our relationship, at least the first 7 years of it, we celebrated tons of random anniversaries.  We celebrated full moons and Friday the 13th.  This is the first time that there has been a full moon on Friday the 13th since.  There won’t be another for 45 years.  This morning my mother asked me if I was alright and the funny thing is that I absolutely am.  I’m never going to be 16 again and it’s a shame because I did it so well.  And Hubby and I, well, we can’t really remember when we started dating or when we got engaged or what phase the moon was in or our first kiss or even how long we’ve been together.  But it’s better.  So much better.

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