His name is Eliot and I have known him since ’89. We met at church camp and it went a little something like this:
There was this girl dating this boy. They met at church camp the previous year and the girl was smitten. Boy lived in the next town over but seeing as how the boy and the girl were not 16, their relationship consisted of church activities, phone conversations and letters. The girl was looking forward to seeing the boy for a whole week at camp that summer when much to her dismay, the boy dumped her for a tarted up girl. The girl was very sad yet wanted to prove a point that she was the fairest of them all, so naturally she picked the next boy at camp and started a torrid (i.e. they held hands, passed notes) affair only to end it suddenly when mean boy dumped tarted up girl at the end of the week and came crawling back to the girl.
The girl felt bad for dissing the nice boy but their story had just begun. . .for the two built a friendship that stands the test of time and distance as well as opposite work schedules that conflict with normal hours of socialization. The pair have kissed before but their greatest legacy is the love they have for each other, no matter who else is in their lives. . .
So that is the long and short of how Eliot and I met, the other boy, Patrick, well he faded into the background a long time ago. But Eliot does like to remind me of the whole toothbrush debacle of ’98.
My mother loathed El for quite a long time over a misunderstanding that I didn’t clear up until I was older and knew that being punished was out of the question. She managed to pick up the phone all those years ago and hear a bit of a saucy conversation that El and I were having. What she didn’t know at the time was that I was the one who initiated the conversation. My mind is in the gutter more times than not; unfortunately my mom didn’t know that my mind went there. . .oops.
Now she loves him and the best part, his parents love me! That is a rarity in my world. In fact, I just talked to his mom tonight; apparently my little surgery made the email prayer network back home and my former youth pastor had emailed El’s dad and well the rest is history. So now I may try to use my surgery as ammunition to get Eliot up here to visit because I desperately need to see him. It has been too long.
He is the love of my life because, well, he has been around the longest and it really doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we last spoke or saw each other because we pick up where we left off. El is the guy I can go to and whine to and he doesn’t mind. He also knows the old Amy, the one that kicked ass when it came to boys. He is also the reason why I am probably infamous within certain Holston Conference churches. That right there makes me yearn for those days back at camp, to really take it all in and realize those were pretty good days. He can make me laugh even when I get pissy and the fact that he used to send me cards with some of the best stuff written in them that still makes me laugh and cry all at the same time.
The girl still loves the boy and sometimes thinks maybe he could have been the one. But she also knows that no matter what, the boy will always be there for her; to make her smile and to make her laugh when she is feeling down. Thank God for the boy because without him the girl wouldn’t be what she is today.