Most people don't think of bloody knees and pouring rain as romantic. Of course, I've never really fit into the category "most people". Most guys don't think of dirty, wet girls as pretty either. Perhaps that was made this moment special. I had been riding my bike through massive puddles, in pouring rain, with two of my friends. Dawson, the guy I had had a crush on for most of my elementary school days and Peter, my first boyfriend. I was having the time of my life until my bike tire was steered right into an unseen pothole underneath nearly 8 inches of water. .
My bike stopped abruptly. I, unlike my bike, did not. I went flying over the handlebars, head first into the puddle. My one knee probably needed stitches but it didn't hurt. I wasn't aware of the blood flowing down my leg but any pride I did have was flowing out my cut down my leg and into the gutter. The glasses I wore day in and day out came off my face in the same way I came off my bike. So to make matters worse, not only was I in the puddle covered with blood, dirt and water but I couldn't find my glasses. Within seconds both Peter and Dawson were on their knees in the puddle with me searching carefully for my glasses. Dawson found them right by my knees. He picked them up and gently handed them to me. Our hands brushed and for a moment all seem suspended in time as we looked into each others eyes only inches away. I was in love. .
I was the odd child that never thought boys had cooties, I never even thought of them as yucky. As far back as I can remember, with the exception of a couple years, there has always been a guy I considered special. Somebody once told me that it was preposterous for me to think I should ever be in love at that stage in my life. That person told me I was only a child and asked how I was supposed to know what love was. At the time I was quite agitated. To this day I disagree that children do not fall in love.
