The Third Time's a Charm

Or something like that. Who would have imagined that my third love was the boy next door. We had lived next door to each other since I was five years old. Our farms were side by side and my parents friendly, but not friends with his parents. In other words, our families didn't socialize, just waved as we passed by.

*sidenote* His older brother helped out on our farm, and in fact, "saved my life" when I was eight years old. It wasn't quite that dramatic, but I got caught out in a barn when a horrible storm kicked up. I was trying to run up to the house with an umbrella and the wind was so bad that it picked me up off the ground. I was so scared, I didn't know whether to hold on or let go, but his brother ran off the porch and grabbed me and carried me up to the house. Come to think of it, maybe I loved his brother, too. I told you, I love generously.

But our elementary school was one class of each grade, so we had been together every year. By the time we hit junior high, we went different directions. One day, he and I looked at each other on the bus and realized, s/he is cute! So we began the awkward flirtation back and forth and every day after our homework was finished, we would meet by the creek and walk around talking and holding hands. One day he kissed me. Our love ended two seconds later.

You see, that older brother that saved my life? He also gave his little brother "a pinch between the cheek and gum" of Skoal. What a disgusting kiss. Love killer. Maybe it was sabotage?