My heart was broken at an early age.
In the first grade I had a crush on my classmate, Patty Hiney. Her desk was in front of mine, and I could stare at her freckles and red hair for hours. Then she told me that she didn’t like me and could never kiss me. My heart was broken. I just wanted to be her friend and confidant.
Then in the fifth grade I was obsessed with my teacher, a nun, Sister Nicebum, whose black uniform allowed me to only see her face and hands. That was enough–I was smitten.
Sadly, the three times she smacked me for poor behavior smacked the love right out of me. I was a bad boy, and the only reason she passed me onto the sixth grade was so she wouldn’t have me for another year.
For a time I loved Patty and Sister Nicebum and that’s what’s important.