By: Stacey-Ann Slatter
August 15, 2025
“…..and the worst part, Mama. I still love him.”, squeezing my eyes shut in a fruitless attempt to, at least, curb the river of tears running down mu chubby cheeks, I bury my head in Mam’s lightest of pink, comfortingly soft housecoat again.
“Okay, okay, Stacey darling, it’s gonna be okay. It’s okay to cry. Mama knows it hurts….”she cooed.
If I was anywhere else other than in my grandmother’s petite but protective arms that held me as I sobbed and sobbed, it would have embarrassed my seventeen year old conscience. But I knew I was safe in her seventies style living room on that rainy day at the end of November. That’s the day I had my heart broken for the first time. That first love always seems to set some incredibly high standard at which all future heartaches and/or break ups fall blessedly short of, wouldn’t you agree? Those wounds feel like they will never fully heal and fresh ones threaten to destroy, well, your whole entire existence. The end of my life, my happiness, my first kiss (my first everything else too; you know what I mean) was crushing me and soaking Mama’s housecoat as she gently stroked the back of my trembling head.
“Cry it all out, Stacey. I know. I know it hurts, Baby. But I promise you, Darling, you’re going to fall in love a million times in your life and many people will fall in love with you”.
At that I raised my puffy eyes to find her warm, knowledgeable dark brown ones, in search of the certainty I heard in her voice.
She smiled, and then, “Stacey, always believe in love. It’s the feelings being in love brings to you that we seek in others. Love is good. Makes life worth living. I know it doesn’t feel that way now. But, Baby, the pain will ease in time and the tears will stop. Ssh, ssh Sweetheart, tell Mama what happened.”.
I took the worn, off-white envelope out of my back pocket, as I had so many hundreds of times before, and handed it to my grandmother. As she reached for her glasses a fat tear slowly crested my trembling top lip and made my mouth salty. I closed my eyes as she read;
May 22nd
“Stacey,
I can’t stop thinking about yesterday. I haven’t had that much to smile about lately; it was really nice to laugh (so hard) and get to know the real you. “You say the damnedest things!!”
I want to see you again. Everyday….every hour….every minute of my life from now on. How do you feel about that, Stace?
This is probably the first time I’m going to say and really mean.
I love you,
Jarron
P.S. If I wait at the same tree, in the same place, at the same time tomorrow, will you come?
Mama re-folded my first love letter ever so carefully, and fitted it back inside it’s fragile, paper, cocoon. She slowly removed her glasses, put them back on the lime green, formica end table, took a deep breath and then met my forest green gaze for the first reaction to his words. There were tears glistening in Mama’s beautiful dark chocolate eyes and she said,
“It’s four o’clock, don’t you think you should call your piano teacher to let her know you won’t be able to make it this afternoon? After all, you’ve been her most attentive student- every single day after school. She might worry why you’re not there, huh?”
“Oh, Mama, I’ve never touched a piano in my whole life. I lied to Mom, to all of you, because I have been meeting Jarron. It’s not everyday that a girl like me gets….”
“What do you mean a ‘girl like you’, Stacey? You’re a beautiful, smart girl; any boy would be lucky for the chance to love you. Or be loved by you”, she grandmotherly interrupted.
“Boys don’t like fat girls Mama. They never want to sit next to you in the lunchroom, or be your biology partner, and they especially don’t want to meet at a special spot everyday after school for six months in a row!”
“Oh, Baby. Do you know how very special you are? You don’t, do you? Jarron must think so to if he wrote those words and asked you to share time with him, don’t you think?”, she asked gently.
Through involuntary tremors from my bottom lip and chin I said,
“I’ve never felt this way before Mama. I can literally feel my heart crack; my happiness crumble. I’m no one again”.
“Why Stacey? Why do you feel like that? I don’t understand, we’ve never met this boy. You two have been secretly rendezvousing for six months? I can see that you are in love, hear it in your voice that he returns that love. So,….”
Before continuing she wraps me back in her arms as if she can sense my sadness. Or perhaps she saw my shell crumble and tears start to fall again. It took quite a few minutes to choke.
“He didn’t show up at our spot again today, Mama. I waited and waited for the third day in a row and he didn’t come. And the worst part is, Mama, I still love him”.