White girl dating hispanic guy

He laughed at my silliness and I fell in love with a boy whose family came from a place called Chile.“Puppy Dog” eyes is what the teacher would say as he would pout at her, as he did when he hoped to get a pass for incomplete homework, and it sometimes worked.Brown, liquid, eyes, hovered beneath dark eye lashes and full dimples in his cheek when he smiled.Since I don’t recall anything Earth shattering as I write this now, I presume life moved on after the coloring book incident, and I survived second grade without too much of a hitch.

His name was Jessie, and besides sharing the first name of my Dad, he stole my heart with his caramel skin, dark, thick eyes and smile.

Things would never work out between us, we did have an *interlude* later in life, after having became close friends after graduation and during mid high school.

I elbowed every girl in the room until I was front and center in front of him. He spend most of his childhood in our alphabet circle also, though he wasn’t as chatty as the rest of us.

I took great joy in placing my pooched out pucker lips on his as I stared into his pretty face. Imagine my surprise when I found Richard on Facebook, now grown and married and living as a professional singer on the other side of the world. While rough housing over a text book as we were packing away our knowledge the for next year’s class, he struck me in my face by accident.

Little did he know he would be cursed with spending an additional five years in close proximity to each of us, end of the alphabet, folks.

I felt bad to see him cry that day, and I attempted to cheer him up by taking my braids and tying them under my chin into a bow and crossing my eyes at him.Though New York City was probably the desired destination, we had our fair share of Puerto Rican families that remained behind in my little industrial corner of the world, and for that, I’m grateful.I began my love affair with tan skin boys in first grade.I didn’t expect him to burst out in tears and get more emotional over his hurting me than I was over the shiner he gave me under my eye.“I didn’t mean to hurt ….” was all that I could make out in between his sniffles and snot bubbles. boys sometimes don’t know their own strength and they hurt girls unintentionally due to their own ignorance.The Spanish boys were very different from the Black boys, I would come to learn.Richard and I were in choir together and I’m sure he would not know this but he’s the reason I quit singing as a child.

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