Do you ever think about your first?

That was really nice, buckweaver.

I don't remember my first crush. It would have been kindergarten or first grade, because I've always been boy-crazy. But the first one I remember is Louie Rundo. Third grade. He had a thing going with Beth Martin, the cutest girl in school, even in third grade. He was perfect (then...looking back at yearbooks, maybe not so much).

Then there was Donny Jarski, whom I never liked, but who apparently liked me. He'd ride his bike down my street and sit across from my house. He told my dad one day he could sit out there and look into my bedroom (doubtful, since my room was on the second floor. He could have just seen ceiling). That did NOT make my dad happy.

 

Rather than telling you about my first crush, I'll offer you these:

 

That's really touching, Buck. I could see it all happen, only in my elementary school.

 

I still remember my first day of kindergarten. Pretty intimidating, no matter who you are. I was tempted to cry until I saw this very pretty girl sitting across the circle from me -- dark hair, dark eyes, porcelain skin. I didn't want her to think I was uncool, so I somehow managed to swallow those tears and never cried at school again (the incident where the bookcase full of books fell down on me notwithstanding).

I carried a torch for this girl all the way through sixth grade when her family moved to the suburbs. Have no idea whatever happened to her.

Am very happily married for 17+ years but would probably still melt into a puddle if I ran into my grade-school crush again.

So I guess the answer is yes.

 

Her name was Karen, and it was kindergarten. She quickly moved on (she was the subject of many crushes, then and probably now), but we always got on well. At the 20-year reunion, she had a circle of guys around her and my then-girlfriend said, "What's with her?" I said, "That's Karen, and I'll be over there in a few minutes. Don't worry about it." I missed the 25-year, but saw her last year and we talked for a while. I said to my friend Darrell, "You know, if I hadn't talked to her tonight, it would have felt like a wasted decade." He laughed and agreed, as his wife mock-rolled her eyes. His wife is very cool.

 

Ah, sweet Sara of the fifth grade. Blonde with dark eyes and beautiful pale skin. I was too scared to speak a word to her, and she moved away. I saw her again my freshman year of college, on the night when I think I was the drunkest I've ever been. I confessed in slurred speech that my heart had once beaten only for her, and I probably propositioned her as well. I'm not sure if she was impressed, because I later puked, blacked out and woke up naked on the floor of the shower with the water running ice cold. I had slept there most of the night.

 

Man, you guys start young. I really can't think of someone I had a crush on until eighth grade.

He was a senior, and played guitar in the school band. He lived down the road from me. Ended up marrying his high school sweatheart and lived in white-trash heaven for every after.

I did get to be very good friends with his brother (he was more my age), who moved away later that year. Believe it or not, it's his brother that I never forgot about.

Not because I had a crush on him, but because I always felt very protective of him.

 

Tracy Rubin was my first crush. My love for older women started early. She was six and I was five when we met. Much of my early childhood was spent with her little brother Greg and my cousin Danny, as we all lived on the same street, within walking distance of our school. I can still remember her long, dark hair and dark eyes. I guess other than remaining age appropriate, my type hasn't changed since then.

I still remember one time that Greg and Danny were chasing me as part of some game. Tracy hid me in her room. I can still remember her giggling. Not that I had any idea what to do alone with a girl in her room at that age, but I remember it was a thrill being there. (Go on and have fun with that one if you like).

I have no wonderful romantic stories here, just silly little kid stuff like the time they took us in the first graders' room to take some test. I got busted for shoving my way to the front of the line so I could get Tracy's desk. Again, I had no idea why it mattered to me, just that it did.

A tape from my 7th birthday party re-surfaced a few years back. Though I was unwilling to admit to liking any girl, they somehow got me to admit I wanted to marry Tracy.

We moved away not long after that and I never saw her again. Last I heard of the family, Greg had become a model. No idea what ever became of Tracy.

 

Great thread. I guess mine would have to be in Kindergarten. A girl named Tiffany. I don't have much to offer other than a name and when, but these are some great stories.

 

Mine was a girl named Meghan Alexander. Had a crush on her from kindergarten through second grade. We went to a real small private school and I figured we'd always like each other, well until the day my parents told me we were moving from the mountains of Central Washington to the suburbs of Seattle.
I only saw her a couple of other times. Once when I was in fifth grade or so and once when I was in high school. She was smoking hot in high school and it brought back strange feelings.

 

Denielle. I met her on the first day of first grade and knew right away I wanted to marry her someday. I was in a trio of friends who always hung out and when she asked if she could join our little club, both fellas gave disapproving nods, but I, of course, said yes. The four of spent every recess together through the fourth grade and still hung out a lot in middle school and junior high. We were more acquaintances than outright friends in high school, but we studied together occasionally (I'm pretty sure it's only coincidence that it was mostly for chemistry).

Even through junior high and high school, while I dated and mated with other girls, I always had a thing for Deni. Despite having fallen in love twice since then (and getting stomped mercilessly), when I saw her at my 10-year reunion in November, the butterflies came back immediately.

She lives in South Carolina now with her husband, a sergeant in the Army. No kids yet, but Army couples rarely wait long.

I'm pretty sure that at any point in my life, no matter what, if she wanted to kiss me I'd do it. And when I imagine that, I don't think of us sharing a passionate adult kiss, I see us as kids when she was the world to me and a peck on the lips would have given me a heart attack.

 

The sixth grade, the Habicht twins. Every girl wanted to go out with them but I knew I had no chance so why bother trying? Besides, it was the sixth grade.

Bill sat in front of me in math class and although it sounds cliche, I deliberately forgot pencils in my locker before class just so I could ask him for one. Even if it was a tongue-tied plea.

Bill was actually a pretty friendly kid in the sixth grade - Bob, his twin, was the evil one. They ended up going to a different high school than mine and I'd still see them from time to time at basketball games and track meets but in the 11th grade they and two other guys got busted for carving "3-0" in our high school football field - a reference to their school's soccer team beating ours the previous night. (It was a pretty heated rivalry. They not only carved it on the field, but dumped salt in the open ground and ruined the field. Then they bragged about it at a party a week later. Duh.)

Last I heard, one of them was in divinity school at the University of Tennessee and the other is a balding doctor.