Some twenty-one years ago, I turned sixteen. While my contemporaries ploughed their way through boys, I got swept up by love and surfed it for four years. Skater Boy and I got thrown together, giddy with the discovery that we could share so much with another human being, by the depth of our connection and the brute force of our feelings.
We wrote each other letters every day, spent hours freezing in public phones because our parents eventually banned us from
hogging using our home landlines – Remember, that time between the Jurassic and Cretaceous, when there were no emails or mobile phones? We gave each other comfort and confidence from teenage to early adulthood, grew-up entwined in each other.
Then we hit problems we did not have the maturity to understand, let alone solve, he freaked out and ran off. Ok, for those of you who, like Struggling Dad, worry that I may be Job’s little sister, or that my life has been a long line of being dumped, don’t, it’s kind of a 50/50 split actually (more about this here).
A few months later, he realised what he had lost, and desperately tried to pedal his way back to my heart, but it was too late. This left us both stunned with regret, and pain that lasted through most of our twenties. Some days I worry that history may repeat itself, and this makes it even harder to let go of T.
I owe Skater Boy my eclectic musical tastes. Stone Roses – I wanna be adored