Oh Troy Tredway, from the first grade. In my last post, I told a sad tale of 1st grade torture. It should only be appropriate that this one be of love. Although I don't know if it was love, but I remember swing sets and stolen kisses, so definitely my first crush. Looking back at my roller coaster of love, I feel pretty fulfilled as far as summer flings, broken hearts, tearful make-ups, tortured souls, Latino lovers, fall fairy tales, concert boyfriends (I was somebody's pit bitch at Slayer)! Oh the list could go on-the good, the bad, the ugly.
But above all, no regrets.
They all lead to the present.
I maintain that my husband is the first real love of my life. He taught me so much about love and there is still so much to learn.
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