He had thick, dark red hair, and was king of the playground.
I was in seventh grade and new nothing about love. But I did know that he made my heart flutter every time I looked at him.
His name was Paul Warner. It was obvious that he was a popular boy, since all the other boys (and girls) gravitated toward him at recess like a pack of wolves to the alpha.
Boys like him never noticed girls like me—girls who wore their shyness like a cloak of invisibility. If he had ever glanced my way, I know I would have blushed ten shades of red and found the toes of my shoes to be suddenly engrossing.
I daydreamed often about Paul Warner throughout that school year; sweet vignettes that materialized in my mind whenever I should have been focusing on a math problem or listening to the teacher’s commentary on the Hundred Years’ war…
What if Paul Warner bumped into me at recess…and smiled at me…
What if Paul Warner turned around in class…and asked to borrow my pencil…
What if Paul Warner took the empty seat beside me on the school bus…and…
Perhaps this first crush was simply an omen of my future—a sign that a different Paul was predestined to enter my life someday, the Paul that I would fall in love with and marry happily ever after.
Alas, Paul Warner was never in the cards for me.
Seventh grade reached its denouement, my family and I eventually moved away, and life rolled on. It wasn’t long before I was head over heels in love with my very first celebrity crush (that’s a story for another day). Paul Warner became as distant a memory to me as Scholz’s star is to Earth.
Although Paul Warner knows nothing of my existence, nor will he ever, I do hope that life’s been good to him. After all, there will always be a special place reserved in my heart for my very first childhood crush.
Now tell me—who was your very first childhood crush?
Create-a-holic Writer 