My first memory of Arturo goes back to when I was about four years old. He was always at the house visiting. While he visited, I wanted to hang around him. All I did was get in the way and bother him and my brother. He was a few years older than me, and he thought that I was nothing but a pest. I guess I was. Imagine, a little girl wanting to hang around a boy, Yuck! I am sure that is what he thought. Even though I was 4 years old, there was something about him that I liked. Anytime I knew he was coming over, I would be so happy. It was odd, right? Yes, it was. I did not understand why, but that is how I felt.
Who could say that what I felt then, would never subside. Our parents were friends, and spent a lot of time together. On the weekends, they would get together to play cards, and all the kids hung out. Our families were close. We, even, took vacations together. Our lives intertwined for many years. Through the years we grew up together, I continued to feel happy when Arturo was around. I always looked forward to his visits. I did not understand what I felt for Arturo, until years later. I was about fifteen years old, when I saw him with different eyes. He now looked so handsome. I no longer wanted to bother him. On the contrary, when he came around, I wanted to say the right things, act like a young lady, and was almost shy around him. I realized that the feelings I had as a child had changed into something more. I thought to myself, “I love Arturo.” What a foolish thought.
Arturo was tall, handsome, poised, smart, attractive, and dreamy. Of course, that is the way I saw him. He was a great dancer, funny and polite. He had a car now. I thought that was so cool. I would think that he was there to pick me up and that we could go for a ride together. I would think that he was interested in me and that is why he visited, but that was not so. He came over to the house to hang out with my brother. How disappointed I was. To Arturo, I was just a little sister. I was invisible. That was ok, I thought, as long as I saw him. When he was over visiting, I was always trying to sit close to where he was. I would look at him and dream. I was only fifteen, my dreams where innocent and fairy tale, like.
In my dreams, he was my prince, and I was his princess. I would imagine the two of us living in a castle. We had horses to ride around. He and I would go for horse rides into the country, where we had a picnic. How corny? I know, but I did not care. It was my fantasy world. I had created it for the two of us. I enjoyed dreaming about it, because in that world, Arturo was with me. Arturo noticed me and I was not, just a pest. No, in this world, he loved me and was happy with me. How foolish I was. I was just a teenager filled with hopeless dreams and a world of fantasy.