My first crush was a boy by the name of Paul (middle row third from left, age 8). I was standing directly to the left of him. Not looking too happy in my new school. I had a crush on him from the age of twelve. My mother suggested that since it was now 1986 and not the dark ages (#feminism), perhaps I should invite him ice-skating. (Advice I would never give my daughter, men must take the lead!) So I called him (his older sister was friends with my sister so I had access to his landline). He put me on hold so he could go and ask his mother. She said no. At school on Monday he joked about it with the others in the class. (I asked him out, how dare I!) I learnt my lesson well.
Advice to my daughter:
No asking boys or men out! Attract them if you must, but they must pursue! End of story.
I wrote a letter to my love
And sprayed it all with scent
Poor letter though did not go well
For hand write could not be read
He tried his best, he really did
It’s not his fault at all
So after hours, minutes, days and nights
A phone call I received
To thank me for the letter sweet
Even though it made no sense
He tried to make out all the words
But could I read it back to him?
With a smile on my face
Feeling loved and happy
Through all my struggles and despair
For my faith and hope and vulnerability
For when I disappoint
And I will remember you
I will forgive you too
And I will love you with all my heart