day 92 – why I love Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day 2013 is coming up soon!!!!!!!!!

Back in February of 2001, I shared my real life love story and it was published in a small publication, the Orange City News, an insert on Thursday’s edition of the Register.   It was described as “teen-age love that survived the test of time.”

I am re-admitting it to my post without the benefit of re–editing in honor of my love and devotion to my high-school sweetheart, now twelve years hence from that “surprise gift” article that was printed publicly.  If anything, my passion, respect and admiration for this man have grown even stronger and deeper.  I hope and believe my writing has improved as well.  And keep in mind that this took place back in 1975 – 2001

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Forbidden Love by Cecilia

Two teens crazy in love.  One with dark brown hair, one blond and blue-eyed.  Our high school history teacher used to call us “Salt ‘n Pepper.”  My French teacher used to shoo M away so I wouldn’t be late to class again.

I came from a very strict upbringing and our relationship scared my father to death.  He sent me away to a faraway country to live with distant relatives who got to know about my love for my boyfriend pretty quickly.  I was sent to study there. 

My heart was broken, but we wrote to each other every day.  We would send each other tapes of ourselves and locks of hair.  Even the mailman knew about us.  I used to look at the stars and send my love through the night sky. 

After seven and a half months of misery, I was allowed to come home.  M and I resumed dating but six months later my entire family was to move away to this country.  I did not think I could bear it.  I begged M to run away with me but he did not think that was a good way to start our lives.  That evening, my heart was heavy as I embraced him at Kennedy Airport for who knew how long? 

Funny how tragedy can be for a reason.  After pining and penning for eight months, there was a lapse.  I didn’t hear from M for one month.  The torture was unbearable.  Finally, I received a very lengthy letter from him in the hospital.  M had been in a nearly fatal car accident.  He had been in the intensive care unit for days and then had major head injury surgery.

My father’s wrath and unwavering denial to let me go was nothing now to my adamant need and passion to be with my M.  My parents fought bitterly.  Reluctantly, my father released me with a signature and I have been on my own ever since then, back in the States.  I was there for M during his second operation.  We went to the same university together.  We grew up, matured and we made something of ourselves too.

Over twenty-five years ago, M walked me to classes and held my hand and books.  I used to whistle at him during gym.  He still walks with me in new and exciting directions, as well as the day-to-day.  I find him even more irresistible and adorable than ever.  M and I are now very happily married.  I cherish our life together.  I am in awe of our three children.  I am grateful for our lives and moments and psychic-like consciences we share.  I enjoy our playfulness and humor we always go to.  Our young and forbidden love has transformed into passionate intimacy, gentle understanding and profound loyalty.  Without a doubt, M is THE love and THE story of my life. 

Hey M?  If you are reading this, again, Will you be my Valentine again, this year?

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