What are the key milestones in our lives?
artificial insemination syringe
Learning to walk. Obtaining a driver’s license. Graduating high school. Moving out. Getting married. Having children. Yet, nobody ever mentions a significant event that shapes our future relationships: our first love — and more specifically, the heartbreak that often accompanies it.
My story is a classic tale of teenage romance. Jake was two years older than me, lived in a small town a few hours away, and came to my high school for a volleyball game. At 14 years old, I was one of only a few kids of diverse backgrounds in a school with strict, religious parents who expected perfection.
In a time before the internet and cell phones, our only means of communication was through letters. Since my mother read all my mail, Jake would send his letters to my friend’s house. Eventually, I got my own phone line, but we continued to write. While I struggled with my self-esteem, Jake insisted I was his “parents’ dream girl.” We dated for four years.
Jake was my first in so many ways: my first love, my first sexual experience, the first time my mother caught us in a secret relationship (trust me, I’ve since honed my skills at keeping secrets), my first prom date, and even the first time I faced betrayal. He was the one who told me, “I just found out I tested positive for HIV.”
I had always insisted on protection, thanks to being part of the MTV generation; I wasn’t going to risk STDs or pregnancy, especially since I was also on the pill. But one time, one slip-up. After getting that shocking phone call, I told him I’d meet him after work.
My world turned to numbness as I finished my shift. I took the bus downtown, only to find myself caught between Jake and Andrea, the girlfriend I didn’t know he had. Andrea charged at me, fists flying. Coming from a turbulent household, I only knew how to defend myself. I grabbed her hair and pushed her head down as she swung wildly at me.
Self-defense classes never prepared me for a female opponent. So, while holding her hair, I instinctively kicked… but missed and hit her in the face instead. Amidst the chaos, I managed to get clocked in the eye myself. She screamed, “Let go of my hair!” and I retorted, “Stop hitting me then!”
We both turned toward Jake, who was trying to sneak away from the mess. Suddenly united, we yelled at him to come back. The commotion attracted the police. I had never faced law enforcement before and could only imagine the trouble I’d be in with my strict parents.
“How old are you?” the officer asked. “Today is her 18th birthday,” Jake replied, and I shot him a death glare for revealing I was a legal adult. Thankfully, we were let go, and we went to Jake’s apartment where he and Andrea lit cigarettes. I worried about the smell clinging to me.
After a brief conversation about our situation and Jake’s positive HIV test, I left. Back then, waiting for HIV test results took ages. I envisioned my life ending if the test came back positive, and in the early ’90s, it felt like a death sentence.
When I eventually got my negative result, Jake called to say his positive test had been a false alarm. Still, I was paranoid and continued to get tested repeatedly. One lab even thought I was a drug user from all the bruises on my arms.
I saw him just one more time after that incident when I mentioned to a coworker about the $250 he owed me, which was a lot for a teenager in those days. My coworker and his friend took me to Jake’s apartment to help me get my money back, and that was the last I heard from him.
That relationship shaped my views on love and trust for years to come. I still have a weakness for blue eyes and a lingering anxiety about HIV. I developed a strategy for coping with breakups, though it didn’t always work. I even treated my next boyfriend poorly and wrote a letter I still hesitate to send.
Then, this morning, I received a message on LinkedIn:
“Hey Jessica, no need to accept the invite. I just wanted to send a brief apology. I know, 25 years later… a bit odd, but I’ve always been a bit unusual. Yes, I changed my last name. Think high school & volleyball. I hope life has treated you well. Best wishes for the future.”
Naturally, I texted my high school friends to share the news. The consensus? He’s probably in a 12-step program and is required to apologize. Common sense says not to reply, but a part of me feels protective of my younger self and wants to know what he’s apologizing for. I accepted Jake’s request and messaged back: “Two questions: Why the last name change? And just so we’re clear, what are you apologizing for?”
While I found closure long ago, I’m still open to healing old wounds.
For those interested in pregnancy and home insemination, you can find excellent resources to guide you through the options available at Resolve or check out Make a Mom for their authority on the subject. If you’re looking for financial assistance for your journey, visit Home Insemination Kit.
Summary:
A woman’s reflection on her tumultuous first love, Jake, unfolds 25 years later when he reaches out to apologize on LinkedIn. While their relationship had its share of drama, including a shocking HIV scare and a physical confrontation with his new girlfriend, the experience shaped her views on love and trust. Now, she wrestles with the decision to respond to his message, seeking to understand the reasons behind his long-overdue apology.
SEO Metadata
Keyphrase: “first love heartbreak”
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]