Originally published October 2009
My very first boyfriend was “Bucky” Buchanan. I can say his name publically because I’m pretty sure that the nickname he carried when he was a 6th grader doesn’t apply to him anymore, so his identity is safe. I hope so or I may get sued.
I was also a sixth grader, along with my best friend from the 4th grade, Nancy. We attended Ledgeview Elementary School in Clarence, New York and the playground was where I experienced my first kiss. Bucky and I were together in the big concrete open-ended tunnels that served as part of our contemporary playground equipment. Years later my best friend admitted she’d kissed Bucky there, too. Our friendship, going on past 40 years now has lasted a lot longer than any boyfriend crush, but the memory of that first foray into adult behavior lingers in the recesses of my mind. I wonder what Bucky is up to these days? Does he remember me? Do I pop up unexpectedly in his memory, as well? I doubt it, but I am happy I can still remember such childhood things.
I have had a few crushes in my life. My high school crush was A.C., whoo I fell hard for him. I was in 9th grade and trust me when I say, A.C. was no prize, but something about him set my heart all aflutter. I would stand outside of his locker and gaze longingly at it, just imagining his gym clothes inside. I think I remember kissing his lock once – gross. One time I was walking the hallway with some girlfriends and thought I saw A.C. coming toward me in the opposite direction; I couldn’t see really well as I was woefully nearsighted and refused to wear my glasses. Eating a bag of cheeseballs or some other snack that would have made my crush see me as a piggy, I threw the entire bag at my friends, showering them with cheese crumbs. It wasn’t A.C., and my friends fled from me in disgust.
Since growing up I’ve learned to maintain my crushes on a more private scale. At least I don’t think I make too much of a fool of myself. Of course, swooning over Richard Gere whenever he’s onscreen in “An Officer and a Gentleman” and swearing that I’d sleep with Rob Thomas (from the band Matchbox Twenty) just because of what his singing voice does to me doesn’t count as foolish, does it? Both of these guys, like A.C. and “Bucky” illustrate a strange taste on my part when it comes to what makes my heart tick. I’d take that statement back with regard to Richard Gere, but that whole gerbil-rumor-thing makes people look at me funny when I admit my crush on him.
My husband, who I’ve had a crush on for over twenty years tolerates my silliness.
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