Time to return to the story of the first girlfriend. Please note that most of this will be pieced together from stories retold by my parents. These were stories they liked to tell because I was just that adorable.
Angie and I began our relationships as most young couples. She gave me a blue crayon. I gave her my heart. The grown-ups called it "puppy love." I called it "forever." But I was wrong. Forever was not meant to be.
I'm getting ahead of myself. We don't want to jump right to the tragic end of the relationship. I don't consider that a spoiler alert though. I am single. One should assume that I'm not actually still with this chick.
In reality, I have no clue how our little romance began. I do know that we would kiss each other good-bye before leaving the preschool. See, the teachers would line us all up against the wall under the awning outside. Then we would wait patiently as the parents drove into the parking lot.
When Dad would pull up, I would break out of line to kiss Angie good-bye. When her mom pulled up, she would do the same. It just depended on who got there first. I guess the teachers thought it was cute too. When there was a substitute one day, she freaked out when I jumped out of the line. Like I was being insubordinate or something. The other teachers just told her to wait and watch. And a collective "Awwww" rose from the three or four adults.
Angie and I were very serious about our relationship. We were even engaged for a short time. Until one tragic day when she told me she didn't want to marry me anymore. Because she decided she liked my best friend, Jeremy. My first experience with heart break.
Dad always said that riding home from preschool, I was all talk. I would go on and on in excruciating detail about what I did that day. But the day that Angie broke up with me was different. I just sat in the car with my head down. I didn't say a word. Mom said that night I just sat beside her on the couch while she watched TV. Normally I would be sitting in the floor playing, but that night was different. When she asked me what was the matter, I told her that Angie didn't want to marry me anymore.
I don't know how long she and I were apart. But apparently whatever there was between her and Jeremy didn't last long. At some point we got back together, or as together as two can be at that age, and remained that way for the remainder of our time in preschool.
After that, things grew difficult. Her family lived in the county, I lived in Salem. Going to different elementary schools would put a strain on things between us. We drifted apart, as children often do. Jeremy and I, however, remained in the same kindergarten class. He would often ask me how Angie was. And I'd tell him she's good.
I did continue to see Angie occasionally after preschool. Specifically, I would see her each Valentine's Day for a few years, at which time I would take her a single rose. Once I turned 7 or 8, I guess we just lost interest in each other. I would eventually see her again, but we'll save that tale for later.