I thought I was in love with my first real boyfriend, we went out for over a year, had met at school. When he went to Scotland in his first job, we vowed to stay together, write, (this was 1969!), and meet up when he could come home, in the meantime saving to get married, I had also started my first job.
This lasted a few weeks, I envied my friends going out to discos etc, and realised I didn’t want to be tied down, I was only just 17.
When he came home at Christmas, I finished with him. He was heartbroken, I felt awful but knew I was doing the right thing.
The next summer, I met my future husband. Knew then it hadn’t been love with the first.
Been married now nearly 49 happy years.
Sometimes wonder about Number 1, hope he ended up happy too.