I can vividly recall the first time we saw each other; he was sitting on my grandmother’s living room couch. My grandmother, the pastor of a Baptist church, was entertaining one of her regular visitors; this boy’s mother.
Our eyes met and locked, and he stared, and the strangest thing happened. I felt drawn to him somehow; I wanted to know him, and from the way he stared, I could tell he wanted to know me too.
We became fast friends. I saw him often on Sundays after church. Being the tomboy I was, it was easy to find common ground with him at playtime. We delighted in sharing marbles, toy trucks, and all manner of boyish trinkets we could get our hands on. Ours was an easy and innocent friendship; we accepted each other as we were.
Then, when I was nine years old, my mother moved away from my grandmother’s house.
My little playmate and I lost contact.
I never saw him again, and, if truth be told, I didn’t think much of it. Life was moving on and I was moving on with it.
Then one day during my 24th year, I came across my Playmate’s Facebook profile.
Excited, I sent him a friend request and told him who I was. Once we were reacquainted, we quickly rekindled the friendship we once had, and spent hours each day talking to each other.
It wasn’t long before I realized I was in awe of the man my little friend had turned into. He was intelligent and easygoing with a contagious sense of humor.
And he was sexy, too.
One day while we talked, I worked up the nerve to tell him I was falling in love with him. To my delight, he admitted to feeling the same way.
We have been together for quite some time now, and are very much in love.
Now I know what it was I felt all those years ago when I first saw him sitting on my grandmother’s living room couch. It was a premonition of the love that was to come.
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