A submission response to: “Who was your first love?”
By Dee McMath
We met on the street, somewhere between home and school. Of Irish rebel stock and with all the charisma you’d expect of a 16-year old boy who came from the ‘wrong’ side of Glasgow. He only had to let his eyes smile in my direction and I was lost. In those days of the mid 1960’s, Catholic boy and Protestant girl was about as taboo as you could get. He was all I could think about and the only person I wanted to be with. He took me to the ‘Electric Garden’, a dive of a discotheque in Sauchiehall Street and someone said later I’d looked like a piece of drapery, having clung on to him all night. When we married, it was at his request, not mine. I didn’t need the paperwork – just ‘knew’ I only ever wanted to be with him. My brown trouser suit and his cream coloured jacket and flares were acceptable for Martha Street Registry Office on that mid summer’s day back in 1974. The longest day of his life, he would joke. We denied his poor mum, Madge from Donegal, her plea for even a blessing from the priest. Religion was one thing we never argued about. Looking back now, I can see he had all the classic signs of a budding alcoholic womaniser.
Even if I could time travel back to the day we met, I wouldn’t change a thing.
But reader – I divorced him.
Dee McMath is a writer, journalist and health specialist. She lives in London and can be contacted via her Health, Fitness & Wellbeing website at http://www.deemcmath.com/.