TheWRITEaddiction.com

I can confidently say I have been in love 3 times.  I’m in my mid-30s, so I think that’s a fairly typical situation.  What makes my situation a bit less typical is that I met all 3 of my loves within a year’s time…and in the same place.

Sounds crazy, right?  But West Middle School was a magical place and my middle school years were some of the most fun I’ve ever had.  (High school was a disaster for me.  I have fond memories of my time at Lincoln University, but nothing holds a candle to nostalgia I feel for those middle school years.)

My first love was an athlete and in the band.  He was cute and popular.  It was my first year wearing glasses. I had a brand new retainer, and I played the violin.  I was even more awkward then than I am now.  Anyway, I was neither cute enough, nor popular enough to be his “official” girlfriend.  So our five-year, on again- off again relationship (and I use that term very loosely) consisted of stolen moments in the hallways, and the occasional secret rendezvous between the busses at sporting events.

I’m not sure how to describe my second love, only to say what I learned from him.   You see, I thought he was kind of a jerk to everybody but me…in the end, I found out that I was not an exception.  Our friendship continued for years after our romantic connection ended.  He made me laugh, and took me on adventures I would have never known without him.

Now this third one…Lord have mercy.  Where do I begin? When we met, he had a high-top fade and I weighed about 80 pounds.  How things have changed. He is my partner in crime, and my priest in the confessional.  He’s my biggest critic and my best cheerleader.  He’s the cherries on my cheesecake, and the chocolate to my peanut butter.   He is the nicest person I have ever met, which works well to counter my slightly anti-social personality.  He makes me laugh and cry. Sometimes he makes me want to punch walls, or break crystal glassware.  (You have to hear that story!) I’m sure the feeling is mutual. Our crazy offsets one another.  Together, we have built a life and a family.

And it all started at a little no-name middle school that I never even wanted to attend.  Thanks for the memories, West Buffaloes.

Mama Radford