It’s a tricky thing, defining your very first date. Was it the first time someone kissed me on the lips (grade 3 at summer camp), or when someone actually used the word ‘date’ when asking me to go for coffee (not until I was 26)? I’ve shared my definition of dating in a prior blog post, so I’m going to put it to the test here and share my first date story. In turn, I’d love to hear yours as well, and how you decided it was your very first date.
My first date took place when I was in Grade 8 and sleeping away from home for the weekend at school conference. The boys and girls were separated into dorms at the local University, and after the main events took place most of the attendees retired to one of the dorm’s chill rooms to watch TV, sing, talk or generally act silly. I distinctly remember Midnight Oil’s ‘Beds are Burning’ playing behind me when a boy by the name of Jakob walked over and told me I had cute knees. It took me a while to realize he was making a play on my last name (Albo), so he pointed to my elbow and asked, “Are they bony too?” This time, the play on my first name (Bonny) got me laughing.
Jakob then asked me if I wanted to come with him and a few other folks who were heading down to the beach for a bonfire. I jumped up, took the hand he’d extended toward me, and ran out the door with him to join his friends from a local school. I saw one of my classmates on the way down to the beach, and she decided to join us as well.
I didn’t know how far the beach was, or how treacherous the walk would be, and if I’d known I probably wouldn’t have agreed to the trek. It was dark, and under the cover of thick, old, massive trees, it was cold and difficult to see much of anything. I fell a few times on the tree branch stairs before Jakob found me, grabbed my hand, and escorted me the 30 or so minutes down the trail.
A few people sang as we walked, and others chatted quietly. Jakob and I said nothing, but he stroked my hand gently as we moved. After a while we fell into a rhythmic pattern with our breathing and footsteps in synch. Occasionally the moon would poke out from behind the upper tree branches, and Jakob would squeeze my hand and pull me faster toward the bonfire.
Once, when I tripped and almost fell over what seemed like a high ledge, Jakob pulled me to my feet swiftly and then kissed me on the lips. I wasn’t expecting it, and I blushed immediately. By that point, I wasn’t tripping anymore because I couldn’t see, but because I was giddy and shaking with excitement.
My First Date Narrative Essay
The first date should be one of those events that you remember forever. It signifies the change in a girl's life. She is no longer just a little girl who stays at home and plays with her Barbie. Every girl has imagined what her first date would be like. The standard details of the fantasy first date include: flowers, candy, dinner and a handsome boyfriend. The first date is the night, when many young girls get their hopes up, and their dreams crushed. The date typically does not happen as it had been envisioned. Like many girls, I was a visionary who wanted to experience all that this night had become in my mind. I wanted the candy and the flowers. I had invested hours into planning the night in my head and predicting how it would turn out. I wanted the perfect vision, but I did not see any of it.
My first date did not include the fancy, candle-lit dinner or the man of my dreams, a bouquet of flowers in hand, picking me up from home. Nor did the date include an overly elaborate evening with dancing, exquisite chocolate desserts, or a horse-and-carriage ride home. Even though the date was not the enchanted fairy tale that I had imagined in my mind, it is still a night that I feel deep in my heart. On that night, I experienced for the first time, a roller coaster of emotions, from the moment we made eye contact, the heart of the date, to the ending of a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
On the day of the date, I was tense with fear that the meeting would go horribly wrong. The afternoon sky consisted of massive grey clouds filled with fog. It seemed as though it was going to pour down acidic rain any second. I was in my new outfit that consisted of a cobalt blue t-shirt with raised white stitch lettering spelling out "Fitch", a pair of dark navy colored boot-legged jeans that I had purchased from Charlotte Russe and my favorite pair of black leather boots. My hair was silky-smooth and wavy like those shampoo models on TV, and my face glistened a light tan colour from the Neutrogena concealer that I had used. I stood in the front entrance of the Sunvalley Mall, fiddling with my fingers waiting anxiously and nervously as a student waiting to see her elementary school diploma. I kept pacing back and forth, trying to hide my disappointment that he was 10 minutes late. All kinds of crazy assumptions went through my mind. I kept thinking that he stood me up or that he found another date, which caused me to worry myself even more.
A few minutes later, I spotted him as he walked towards me from across...
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