Old Boyfriends Rock! Literally.

My first serious boyfriend (i.e., the first boy I kissed), was when I was in the eighth grade. Billy was the neighbor of a girlfriend of mine, and even though we didn't go to the same school, we saw each other regularly after school and on weekends. Billy was a guitar playing rocker, even in the eighth grade, with shaggy hair and an actual band (that I can't remember the name of). He called me every night, and though it took it a little while to work up the nerve to kiss me, he did it in most romantic way any girl could imagine - he took me for a moonlight boat ride on the lake, and while we were out in the middle, all alone, he leaned over and gave me a kiss. Talk about your romantic evening! It was a chaste kiss (as were all of them - we were only thirteen, after all) and I'm forever grateful to him for giving a memory like that to cherish.

But as so often happens in the teenage world, we both moved on to other people and other interests, luckily with no hard feelings. And then, last year (thanks to Classmates.com), I got an email from Billy. Not only was I thrilled to hear from him, I was thrilled to learn that he'd never given up his dream of becoming a rock star. :) He now goes by the name Billy Angel, and he's the lead singer in The Rockabilly Band (any Brian Setzer/Stray Cats fans out there? Then you'll know what I'm talking about), and is also a DJ on a local radio station. He has a beautiful wife, and he's living his dream - what more could I guy want?

I just wish I could see him play, one more time, but alas, he lives in Big Sky Country and I live in Gatorland. I think about him from time to time (and I hope he doesn't mind that I just told the world he was the first guy I ever kissed!), and wish him well. Rock on, Billy!