Nearly 19 years ago, I said "I love you" to a girl, face-to-face, for the first time. It's a moment I remember clearly: Flowers. A ring. An awkward kiss. Both of our moms hovering around since each had driven us three hours to a halfway point.ars.AD.queue.push(["xrailTop", {sz:"300x251", kws:["bottom"], collapse: true}]); It was weird like any early teenage romance, but this particular iteration of adolescent awkwardness remains unique even in retrospect. My "I love you moment"—like any sense memories from my teenage years of 1996-98—mostly revolves around my bedroom.