My first love. My last love
I'm getting married soon to the man I never thought I would find in my lifetime. He's Russian born, raised here, and is the best thing I could ever ask for in my life partner: smart, funny, caring, and incredibly attractive. Just a few of my fave things. There will still be memories, and all the writings in between, but they will be memories of a past that I now choose to leave behind, and visit only to remember but never repeat. This is the future and the family I want to build with him and the child(ren) we may have, so to this I commit. Not long ago, I remembered my very first real crush. The moment I felt real attraction for someone, for whatever reason. No, it wasn't the boy who treated me for a soda when I was 7. No, it wasn't someone pulling my hair just because. It was the youngest son of the Ambassador of the Russian Federation, who was in my language school for English. Kid was also a model. As I was (and still am) so very shy, I couldn't even speak to ...
