Clandestine Confessions

My sister was a huge proponent in me living out a fairytale romance.
She helped me get ready for my very first date.
Assisted in picking out the perfect outfit, styled my hair for me, did my makeup, taught me how to shave my legs (although this ended in many wounds…I laughed at it then, and I still laugh now).
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He and I went to the movie theater to see “Daddy Day Care” – I still have the ticket stub.
Tucked away in a little wooden box in my bedroom in North Carolina.
Along with the ticket stub from when we went to see “Finding Nemo”.
And his Valentine’s Day card to me – a pink box with aliens in a spaceship on it that says “You’re out of this world”.
Two mini Reese’s peanut butter cups were inside.
(Everyone else only got one piece of candy…it was then I knew feelings were reciprocated.)
And a popsicle stick with his name written on it that we would use in the classroom for various reasons.
And a picture of him in the studio at our elementary school where we would record our morning news show.
And a card he sent me when I was in the hospital in March 2004.
One that came with flowers and a teddy bear wrapped around the vase.
“Thinking of you and wishing I was there to give you a bear hug. – M”
Have I mentioned recently how much I love love…?
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She was there to comfort me when he moved away shortly after that first date.
Accompanying me to the mall a week prior to pick out a goodbye gift for him.
We went with a necklace from PacSun (only fitting since that was the center of our first conversation).
Funny how I would continue that theme 18 years later – a story I am still determining if I want to share…
She sat on my bedroom floor with me the day he left trying to cheer me up as I drowned my sorrows in Moose Tracks ice cream.
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And when I would receive his email that would end the relationship, it was her I went searching for right away.
Going straight to her room where I would weepily share what happened.
My first real heartbreak.
She stopped everything she was doing to hold me as I cried.
“Sissy, I am so sorry. But I promise everything is going to be okay one day. You will know another love in this lifetime.”
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He actually reached out to me in 2017.
Apologizing for any hurt he caused when breaking up with me, afraid his actions accelerated the anorexia.
I let him know there was nothing for which to be sorry, how grateful I was for him to be my first love, that he was safe to let that fear go for I always knew his heart was pure.
“It was much bigger than me,” he said. “I did have good intentions. And it sounds like you can see that.”
It was with that my respect grew exponentially for him.
The seeing and acknowledging what no other has – that the disorder was stronger than anything from which one person could save me.
And laying down their pride to accept they could not be my knight in shining armor.
Allowing me the honor to slay the dragon myself.
It fills me with immense joy to see him now living so abundantly – a life so well deserved.
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She would be the first one to know about my first kiss.
April 2008.
When that same boy and I would reconnect during his visit to Pennsylvania.
We were on my couch in the living room watching “There Will Be Blood” when it happened (was this the most romantic movie choice? Not in the least. And I have no idea why we picked it. But it certainly made for a memorable experience…)
Very shortly after the kiss I ran upstairs.
Knocking quietly but rapidly on my sister’s door.
“Come in,” she said.
I darted into her room and onto her bed – where she was sitting eating gummy bears and listening to music.
“Sissy sissy sissy!” I exclaimed, giddy from the euphoria. “I just had my first kiss!”
“Oh my goodness! How was it?! How do you feel?!”
“It was amazing! Better than even you said it would be.” (Not like I would have known what was actually a “bad” kiss at the time…that experience would come later in life…)
“Just make me a promise sissy, please; always protect your heart. Okay?”
I would come to connect the dots not long after this moment that gummy bears were her heartbreak food.
Which left me forever wondering what pain evoked that promise that night…
“Okay. I promise.”
“Now go back downstairs before he thinks you hated it!”
“I love you so much, sissy,” spoken though tears as I gave her a tight hug.
She tousled the back of my hair, gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“Love you, Roods.”
I darted back downstairs.
Where I would have my second kiss to a Backyardigans Live commercial (not sure that made for any more of a dreamy atmosphere…).
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And then it would be the winter of 2008 where she would partner with me on my pursuit of a new love.
Me petrified to see him and allude to having feelings for him but her adamant I needed to go after what my heart wanted.
Even if I had to do it scared.
She drove me to his house over an hour away where he was hosting a movie and dessert night.
I remember her playing “Grace Kelly” by Mika on the way there – a song now forever synonymous with bold acts of love.
(One I have needed to play a few times since…)
And she stayed with me the whole time to support me, taking the lead when she saw me stumbling over my words as the nerves took over.
I watched her in such awe at the confidence she had in being herself – speedily scribbling mental notes to not forget what I would need to do to one day be just like her.
Never feeling prouder to be her sister.
This night would eventually open the door for a date with him – one that involved a trip to the DMV for him to get his license, a fair, a stuffed cow he won me, Thai food, and a play.
(And yes, I still have every memento from that day in another designated box.)
Not coincidentally (at least not to me), he was actually the first one to reach out to me after releasing the news of her death.
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And then there is the moment that stands out among them all.
What would become the last spoken words of advice she would ever provide my heart here on earth.
During the final time I would ever hear her voice…