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What are the key moments that shape our lives? Learning to walk, getting a driver’s license, graduating from high school, moving out, getting married, and having children are often highlighted. Yet, no one ever mentions the pivotal experience of first love—or the heartbreak that often accompanies it.
It was a typical teenage romance. Mike, my first boyfriend, was two years older, lived in a small town a few hours away, and visited my high school for a volleyball game. I was just 14, one of the few kids of diverse backgrounds at my ultra-religious school, struggling to balance my perfect grades with a desire for freedom.
In an era before smartphones and social media, our primary way of communicating was through letters. To avoid my mom reading everything, Mike would send his letters to my friend’s house. Eventually, I got my own phone line, but we continued to write. While I was busy critiquing myself, Mike would call me his “parents’ ideal child.” Our relationship lasted four years.
Mike was my first in many ways: first love, first sexual experience, first prom date, and the first time I was cheated on. He even once told me he had a positive HIV test result. You know, classic teenage drama.
We broke up shortly before my prom, but after I insisted he still wear the tux I’d already paid for, we ended up rekindling our romance. What I didn’t know was that he had started dating someone else during our split. His new girlfriend fit into his wild lifestyle—she was the kind of girl with piercings and bohemian clothing, while I was the straight-laced honor student.
On my 18th birthday, as I worked my shift at a clothing store, Mike called to share the news about his HIV test. I had always insisted on safe sex, but we had one encounter without protection. I told him I’d see him after work.
After my shift, on my way to meet him, I encountered his new girlfriend, Sarah, who charged at me. I had learned self-defense moves for male attackers but never for females. So, I reacted instinctively, grabbing her hair and trying to push her down while she swung at me. In the chaos, I ended up kicking her in the face instead of where I intended.
We both turned our attention to Mike, who was attempting to slip away from the scene. Before we could confront him, the police arrived, and I was terrified at the thought of my strict parents finding out I’d been in trouble.
After some chaos, the officer let us go, and we headed to Mike’s apartment, where he and Sarah lit cigarettes. In an odd moment of camaraderie, we discussed our heartbreaks while Mike explained his HIV situation. I eventually left, and weeks later, I received a call saying his positive test was a false alarm. Still, I couldn’t shake the fear and continued testing for months.
I only saw Mike one last time after that incident. A few months later, I mentioned him to a colleague who was a bodybuilder. He and his friend took me to confront Mike about the money he owed me, and that was the last time I ever heard from him.
That relationship profoundly influenced my views on love. I still find myself drawn to blue eyes, but I also carry an underlying anxiety about HIV. I learned to manage breakups in my own way, though it didn’t always work out perfectly.
Then, just this morning, I received a message on LinkedIn from Mike:
“Hey there, just wanted to reach out and apologize. I know it’s been 25 years… a bit strange, but that’s just me. I changed my last name. Think back to high school and volleyball. Wishing you all the best.”
In a moment of nostalgia, I texted my high school friends about the message, speculating that he might be in a 12-step program. Though logic suggested I shouldn’t respond, a part of me felt compelled to understand why he was apologizing. I accepted his LinkedIn request and asked two questions: “Why the name change? And what are you apologizing for?”
Although I found closure years ago, I remain open to healing past wounds.
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Summary: This post recounts the author’s experience with her first love and the complexities of teenage relationships, culminating in an unexpected message from him 25 years later. The narrative touches on themes of heartbreak, personal growth, and the lingering effects of first love.