If I could take running on a steamy Valentine’s Day date, I would. I’ve been courting him for years and I think it’s time I finally get lucky.
We were introduced by friends at high school track, but truth be told, I didn’t really care for him at first. He was the cool kid. You know, the one that all of your friends doted over as he had that John Travolta, plain white tee with rolled up sleeves, Grease suaveness about him. Sure I had chills, but they weren’t immediately multiplying.
When we met, I was shy and had zero experience. I mean, my dad always told me that it takes at least two years to really know a guy and I had been fairly brainwashed about teenage boys and their hormones. Enter awkward gait and arm position.
So there we were, pushed together by fate and one of us had to make the move, or I literally wouldn’t be going anywhere. With a push from my friends, I ended up in a place I shouldn’t have been. A dangerous place that is for experienced folks, maybe even the seniors.
Sprinting and hurdles.
What?! How did I get here? He was moving way too fast for me. That’s almost third base — I am a lady and should be treated like one!
Being young and naïve, I got duped into the hurdles and sprinting because all of my friends were doing it. Oh young Page, haven’t you learned? Wasn’t this the type of peer pressure that they warned you about? Do you know what kind of diseases you could have gotten? Tendonitis Sprained ankles! Ligament tears! I can’t even continue on… What I should have done was listen to my dad, stood up for myself and declared, “Sorry, but I’m not that kind of girl.” What was I doing messing around with such a boy?
It took me two years to finally realize that I was approaching this relationship all wrong and what I really wanted. I was the girl who looked forward to our Friday dates more than anything. We weren’t doing 400 meter repeats and pushing out of the blocks. It was where we’d go long and we’d best of friends. Where we’d reach a new state of euphoria fueled by hormones, ehem, endorphins. Where I’d find my knight in shining armor. That’s all a 16-year-old girl really wants after all, isn’t it?
Once I was true to myself and had an honest conversation about where I wanted this relationship to go is when it happened: we fell in l-o-v-e and I haven’t looked back. We keep each other honest, accountable, entertained and in respectable shape. We made memories and continue to do so to this day.
If I can promise you one thing it’s this: this high school sweetheart relationship and I…we’re going to work out. No pun intended.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
(Don’t worry Chicken Face, I love you more!)