Writing Young Love: Passage of Time


Writing Young Love:  Passage of Time
by Multiple Personality Disorder


I had a crush on a girl much older than I, at least by ten years I would say.  She was my oldest sister’s friend and our neighbor.  It turned out that my sister and she, Mehri, became life time friends.  I was only eight years old at the time when I began to like her, knew nothing about human sexuality, yet I was attracted to her with a desire that was not of a little boy's seeking pampering from a motherly love.

My sister and Mehri would sit down on the curbs of a little bridge, only a few feet long, that span over a small drainage ditch that ran in front of our front yard’s gate, in front of our company issued house in Abadan.  They would talk for long periods of time, sometimes for hours.  Sometimes I would sit with them, usually Mehri on one side and my sister and I on the other side.  This was at the expense of being called, by some of the other boys, a sissy, which I was, a soosool.  Sometimes I would manage to sneak a view of her breasts when she would bend down to pick up something, or take a look at her legs when she was sitting down on the curb with her miniskirt.  She had a beautiful voice, a deep throat authoritive voice, yet feminine.  She had a Sophia Loren kind of a look to her, more in mannerism than physicality.  I never knew how to get in their conversation, mostly listened, but one time when they were gossiping about a fat girl, I made an ass out of myself by saying that she had big teats.  Mehri teased me relentlessly.  "So, what's in it for you?"  She asked.  My sister tried to fix it up for me by saying things like “manzooresh en bood...”, but Mehri kept on giggling and teasing, and I ran away with embarrassment, and from then on kept on being even more quiet.

It turned out that Mehri had a crush on my oldest brother.  One day when a khastgar had come to ask for her hand, she managed to meet my brother in private and told him about her feelings for him, but my brother had other plans for his life and getting married at his age was not one of them.  She ended up gotting married her much older khastgar.  The wedding was in our yard since it was much larger than theirs.  Mehri did not look happy at all.  Her newly wedded husband was from Tehran and he was going to take her away.  When the time came for her to leave I was standing on the little bridge looking in their direction; without turning her head she rolled her eyes in my direction and without nodding or saying goodbye she got in a car and went away.  She looked so miserable.

It would be a few years later when I saw her again, after we moved to Tehran.  By then I was a teenager and had figured out that this fantasy of mine was just a fantasy.  We were family friends and we would see each other from time to time.  She managed to have a successful marriage, two daughters, and a son.  The boy, the last, was much younger than the girls, someone’s desire for a boy in the family.  Her husband is dead now.  He died in the street, she told me.  “Collapsed without anyone knowing who he was.  He had to pick up passangers for an extra income to make the ends meet.  Where in the world people have to work so hard after they retire!”  She asked me rhetorically with a bitterness in her voice.

Last time I was in Tehran I gave her a lip stick as a token of a traveler’s gift.  She was grateful.  She looked old; the brilliance of youth had left her.  Her teeth shifted and plaqued, beaten by the passage of time, but still with a great voice she talked about my late sister with great respect.     


Recently by Multiple Personality DisorderCommentsDate
ناگهان، شاهین نجفی Suddenly, a song by Shahin Najafi
Nov 13, 2012
Universal Love
Oct 01, 2012
Shahin Najafi, When...
Sep 02, 2012
more from Multiple Personality Disorder
Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez

Since I didn't have

by Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez on

a young love, I decided to do a fictional story. Tell me what you think of it MPD Writing Young Love: Lost love

Now be brutality honest with me. You know I am trying really hard to improve my fictional writing. :o)




by yolanda on


     Thank you for your story. Wow! It is a very complicated story: you liked your older sister's friend, but she liked your older brother, but your brother had other plans, so the girl married some other guy unhappily, and then the girl's husband died tragically......it is so sad! I think sometimes life is like that! The good thing is that the lady managed to have a successful marriage! Thank God!

     You are truly versatile 'cause all your writings are very different and unpredictable!

Thank you and best wishes always!


Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez

Thank you for sharing

by Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez on




اسو دلچسب و عالی


اسو دلچسب و عالی


I Saw Her Standing... 

Anahid Hojjati

Nice Story MPD, great that you have memories of your young crush

by Anahid Hojjati on

Nice story dear MPD. It is great that you still have contact with your childhood crush.  Sometimes when I meet my childhood crushes and see that they have turned into handsome, smart guys, I tell myself that I really have a good taste in men :).  One thing that is sad though is that with some of these crushes, I don't have much memories except that I remember that I used to have a crush on them. It is nice that even though you were very young, you have some memories of your young crush.

bajenaghe naghi

multiple personality disorder jan

by bajenaghe naghi on

Childhood love is very sweet and at the same time very painful. It does not usually go anywhere but remains hidden in the heart of the admirer unfulfilled. Your story was a sad story. Not so much because you did not get the girl, but because the girl got a man she did not love. Thank you for sharing.

Nazy Kaviani


by Nazy Kaviani on

Well, you DID have a story about young love in you after all! Mehri's plight was shared by many. I am writing my story and it is about those who married the ones they loved and those who married the ones they didn't love. My honest observation is that nobody fared much better than the other. Life has twists and love works in mysterious ways.

Good, unpredictable writing as usual MPD!

Red Wine


by Red Wine on

نوشته‌های شما سبز و دوست داشتنی هستند.اینجور مطلب است که همیشه به یاد می‌‌ماند.

خوش باشید.


Multiple Personality Disorder

بابا اگه می تونستم یه دستی هم می زدم ولی کی جرئت داشت!

Multiple Personality Disorder

بابا من چند بار گفتم داستانی ندارم از عشق جوانی ولی کیه که گوش کنه.


Hala didi...

by sima on

khodet ham weren't up to much more than I was. Heck, you didn't even give her a pat on her padded jacket with your padded glove. Bi khod enghadr poz nadeh...!

Very sweet story, though. Amazing how observant children are.