Crush-ed

His name was Shiloh

Shiloh Hatcher.

(I had to include the last name as the name Shiloh, in my house, conjures up images of a cute beagle puppy. I did not have a crush on a puppy.)

He lived in the a barn house. Not a BARN. But rather a  house that looked like a barn. A big brown barn-like house. For some reason I also remember that he had a really big pinwheel like see-saw that allowed up to 6 kids on at one time. (That's weird that I remember that...) 

He was a sun-kissed (evident by the thousands of freckles), blonde haired, boot wearing beauty. No-one knew I liked him...heck, I was in 2nd grade.  I probably didn't even know that.

But I did. I did like him.

Until I didn't... .  

Well, he liked me too. How do I know this?

Because he would chase me at recess. "Ah, well, that doesn't prove he liked you," you may say. "What 8 year old boy doesn't chase a girl now and again?"

It wasn't the chasing that proved he liked me. That was normal for a cute, spunky, little girl, like I was, to be chased by boys at recess.

 It was what he did when he caught me.

I remember the day he caught me, because he did only catch me once. I remember I was wearing my pink velvety shirt (Odd that I remember that fact as well....although it was my favorite shirt so the chances that I was wearing it are very high!)  He chased me until finally he caught me.

Then he did the thing that made me un-like him.

He leaned in and he kissed me right on the cheek.

It was at that moment I knew that I did not like him anymore. Maybe because I was embarrassed. Maybe it was because I liked it and I didn't know, at that early age, what to do with a kiss from the boy I liked. Maybe it was because he had caught me and I was afraid the fun was gone.

Most likely I didn't want to be tied down to one man at the age of 8 years, no matter how cute he was. I was a deep thinker back then.

So my first crush was killed by a kiss.  

Post Script:
I dodged a bullet on that one because he later became a troublemaker....probably never recovered from the crushing blow I inflicted on him at such an early age.

Sorry, Shiloh.