Teenage love

Before I became someone I met somebody way back when Nujoma was still president. There was an instant spark. She was quirky, slightly crazy, extremely funny and very dynamic. I was geekish bordering on dorkish and the slightly more laid back, calm and calculating type. She was the unconventional to my routine. It was what teenage romance is supposed to be, innocent and childish at times. I remember this one time we had a shouting match over one of her practical jokes, she invented this farce about being pregnant and her friends played along, I for one was not pleased and lost my cool (Blew my top like a volcano). As with all teenage romances we did not talk to one another for two weeks, then kissed and made up and started all over again. The cycle of love as I called it back then (meet up, break-up and make-up) when relationship’s were simple and were devoid of modern day complexities.

High school was the best worst days of my life, it was bittersweet but somebody made it more sweet than bitter. Safe to say that my little world of books and living up to parent’s expectations became dark and gloomy because shouldering that pressure weighed heavily on my young conscience, with her I could be a teenager. I could be care free and live for the moment, if I learned anything it was that one being so young should not worry their life away. I remember once at break, we were hanging out as usual and this crazy idea of walking up to her kissing her and then walking away leaving her speechless and in shock popped into my mind. Actually it was already there but courage for a guy is a scarce commodity, but that day I found the courage and the look on her face was priceless, the look on my friend Steven’s face was worth a million (in US$) alone. Because in high school PDA (Public Display of Affection) is like huge, it’s like a tsunami, the after effects are worse than the actual event it ‘self.

As with all good things high school came to an end and so did our Romeo  and Juliet moments, but the effect it had is like a tattoo that I carry with me to this day, that I look at and get caught up in a nostalgic trance while reminiscing on stolen kisses, love letters and exuberance of youth. I breathe heavily and smile as if to say “I am glad that I met her”, if I could do it all over again then I would not change a single thing.

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