I have posted a few times about love here or here and given that both mentioned my husband, who is also my first and only love, I guess they apply here too.
Meeting my other half was not the happiest time of my life. I was 8, my father was ill and we had just moved to a bungalow because of his mobility issues, which also meant having to give our dog, Suzy, away. Another family moved into the house opposite us about a month after we moved onto the street.
A family of six; Mother, Father, two boys and two girls. I had a new friend in the youngest child (eventually my sister in law) and quite frankly the boys were just annoying! As time went on, after my Fathers passing, our mothers became friends and we started spending time at their house. It turns out that the oldest boy wasn't actually that bad! We spent time watching telly in his bedroom and generally hanging out.
Eventually teenage years hit and one evening on a stolen moment, without parental units around, he kissed me. Time stood still, I had dreamed of this moment for what seemed like an eternity and now his lips were on mine. It was a nervous kiss and probably shorter than it felt, but I will always remember how he smelt, the arm of the sofa that I was perching on at the time and how my heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest.
Our relationship didn't get off the ground for some time. To cut a very long and involved story short he is 4 and a half years older than me, which at 14 and 19 seems like a huge gap. For me there was a couple of two week relationships thrown into the gaps created by our flings but eventually we took the plunge and made what we had public, never looking back.
