Tracey Clarke, 52, reunited with her first love, only to face a devastating reality
Kissing behind the sports hall, I knew Wayne Clarke was not like the other boys at school: he was shy and polite, and smelt lovely – of Yves Saint Laurent aftershave. At only 13, our romance was sweet and innocent.
We were too young for proper dates. We didn’t have enough pocket money to go to the cinema, so school and the local park were our hang-outs. Six months into our teenage romance though, Wayne and I split when I moved schools. ‘I’ll miss you,’ he told me. ‘Until we meet again.’
I didn’t see him again though until I was 19 and popped into a menswear shop in Birmingham. By this time I was married with a baby, so I didn’t let on that I’d clocked him working there. Instead I quickly turned around and left the shop before he saw me.
My first marriage didn’t last but it gave me two beautiful daughters. And my second marriage also ended, but with three more children, I had no regrets.
As time passed, my focus was on raising the kids. But in 2008, my daughter signed me up to Facebook. ‘Just type your friends’ names into the search bar and add them,’ she explained.
MAKING CONTACT
When she left me alone, I’m not sure why, but the first name that came into my head was Wayne’s. Like me, he would have been 38 by now. I was curious to see what he was up to, so I searched for him, but I couldn’t find him. ‘Never mind,’ I thought, a bit disappointed.
A couple of years later, when my best friend from school tagged me in some old photos with Wayne, I typed, ‘He was my first love.’ The next morning I woke to a friend request from Wayne and a message: ‘Hello stranger.’
I couldn’t believe it was him. He must have joined Facebook shortly after I had, which is why I’d missed him. We messaged back and forth and I found myself getting excited each time I was alerted to another message.
In July 2010, after a month of talking online, we arranged to meet. My failed relationships had knocked my confidence, so I could barely apply my lipstick, my hands were shaking so much. We arranged to meet in a car park so Wayne would pick me up and drive me to a lovely, cosy pub.
‘I couldn’t catch my breath when I first saw you,’ Wayne told me as I got into his car. Decades had taken his thick curls. But it was his mouth, his laugh and his smile that felt so familiar. And, of course, he smelt as good as I remembered.
We laughed in the car all the way to the pub. I always thought that falling in love instantly was just a
