First Love

The phone was attached within the hallway of the house, she told me “We need to talk about something important”, “it’s so important that we need to meet”. On the middle of the bridge in Thornhill, travelling to school, “I don’t know how to tell you, but I have an STI”. Her mother confirmed it as they had been to the clinic together, it was from me. “It’s ok as my mum and I have sorted it out.”, “better get yourself checked now.” We had been together for six years, she was bi-sexual, but I didn’t know what that meant. On the bridge I knew that I was dirty, never learnt to wash, I could not even afford my own clothes, but the wind was blowing in my face. “We can work it out”, again “as my mum knows.”. I forever apologised for two further years. She was my first girlfriend, my first love and they only one I knew. She was the first girl with an imagination.