In third grade, a young gentleman in my class professed to his mother "Mama, my true love is back." He had been my kindergarten boyfriend and the only thing that could tear us apart was the cruel fate of my moving to another town. I don't remember much about our courtship or relationship, but I imagine it involved paste somehow. My mother tells a story to this day of how he got me a really good birthday gift once. I always correct her and tell her it was another person, but I think she likes the romantic aspect of the idea.
Alas, though he was my first love, it wasn't meant to be. We went on a date back in December, and the thrill from elementary school was gone. He was very nice, and I had a nice time, but it just didn't work out thanks to the busyness of my life at that point. He was my first love, but he won't be my last. Cheesy, no?