This blog is dedicated to all those people out there who had an unrequited high school crush. Here is the embarrassing and retarded account of mine.
It was freshman year. I was sitting in my algebra class trying to be as much of a non-entity as possible, when my friend (let's call him Matt, since that is his name) came over to my desk began telling me really cheesy jokes. After about a minute one of the fellas sitting near me started to comment on it to his friend. "He's always over here at her desk talking to her and stuff. I think he likes her or something," he said, much to my chagrin. "Is this true Kayla? Does Matt like you?" queried his friend in a not-so-much-of-a-friendly-inquiring-kinda-way-so-much-as-a-looking-for-a-way-to-embarrass-you-type-of-way. "I don't know," I mumbled. "He's always over here acting dumb and stuff." At which point Matt clams up, gives me a look, and goes back to his desk.
And that was it... my magic moment. With the little seed planted by those weenie guys, I was head over heels in love.
So for the next 4 years I was love sick and dopey. I wrote horrible poetry. I analyzed and reanalyzed every comment he made to me, every look, every sigh. I joined activities I never woud have if Matt hadn't been in them. I had it bad. We had two overnight meetings for an activity we were both involved in called Academic Decathlon. Both times we went, I stayed awake almost all night just to watch him sleep. One year we were there I wrote this terrible "stream of conciousness" type poem about how much I wanted to fix the holes in his socks and sew up his backpack. Oy!
Now that I've told you how braindead and loopy I was, I'm sure you can relate to the awfulness I went through when I had to sit through every conversation about the girls he liked, the girls who didn't understand him, the girls who did him wrong. All the time I was sitting there all I could think was "WHY NOT ME?!?" The worst it ever got was when we went to a birthday party for a mutual friend at our local park. Matt met a girl who struck his fancy. She had been throwing up shortly before he decided to go make out with her in the ball field. So I, being the ever mentally stable person I was then, decided to punish myself for being so awful that a perfect stranger who had been throwing up was a better choice than myself as a makeout buddy, by slashing the hell out of my wrist with a soda can. Worry not, it wasn't serious. Mostly just deepish scratches but it hurt like a mother.
Senior year came to a close. Matt signs my yearbook with something along the lines of "We've both meant more to each other than either of us will ever admit." What the hell?! Anyways, I went off to college and continued to write him letters and email all that first year with him replying and coming to visit me at home at Christmas. After that he dropped off the face of the earth and I didn't hear anything else about him for about 4 years, by which time I had scoured the internet and found the man of my dreams and married him. I was pretty much over Matt by then... heehee. I spoke to him about a year ago and in my inebriated state told him about my crush on him. He claimed to have been oblivious. I don't know how... everyone else I knew was very aware of it.
So as you know if you bother to read my blog at all, my reunion is coming up at the end of this week. Hopefully Matt and is lovely wife Lori will be there. Also hopefully, he won't have read this and told his wife about it. I'd really have to die of embarassment. Oh well... I plan to drink before going, so maybe after a few cocktails there I just won't care even if it is brought up.
So there is my tale of love and woe. I hope yours is just as goofy and makes you feel as stupid as mine does.
It was freshman year. I was sitting in my algebra class trying to be as much of a non-entity as possible, when my friend (let's call him Matt, since that is his name) came over to my desk began telling me really cheesy jokes. After about a minute one of the fellas sitting near me started to comment on it to his friend. "He's always over here at her desk talking to her and stuff. I think he likes her or something," he said, much to my chagrin. "Is this true Kayla? Does Matt like you?" queried his friend in a not-so-much-of-a-friendly-inquiring-kinda-way-so-much-as-a-looking-for-a-way-to-embarrass-you-type-of-way. "I don't know," I mumbled. "He's always over here acting dumb and stuff." At which point Matt clams up, gives me a look, and goes back to his desk.
And that was it... my magic moment. With the little seed planted by those weenie guys, I was head over heels in love.
So for the next 4 years I was love sick and dopey. I wrote horrible poetry. I analyzed and reanalyzed every comment he made to me, every look, every sigh. I joined activities I never woud have if Matt hadn't been in them. I had it bad. We had two overnight meetings for an activity we were both involved in called Academic Decathlon. Both times we went, I stayed awake almost all night just to watch him sleep. One year we were there I wrote this terrible "stream of conciousness" type poem about how much I wanted to fix the holes in his socks and sew up his backpack. Oy!
Now that I've told you how braindead and loopy I was, I'm sure you can relate to the awfulness I went through when I had to sit through every conversation about the girls he liked, the girls who didn't understand him, the girls who did him wrong. All the time I was sitting there all I could think was "WHY NOT ME?!?" The worst it ever got was when we went to a birthday party for a mutual friend at our local park. Matt met a girl who struck his fancy. She had been throwing up shortly before he decided to go make out with her in the ball field. So I, being the ever mentally stable person I was then, decided to punish myself for being so awful that a perfect stranger who had been throwing up was a better choice than myself as a makeout buddy, by slashing the hell out of my wrist with a soda can. Worry not, it wasn't serious. Mostly just deepish scratches but it hurt like a mother.
Senior year came to a close. Matt signs my yearbook with something along the lines of "We've both meant more to each other than either of us will ever admit." What the hell?! Anyways, I went off to college and continued to write him letters and email all that first year with him replying and coming to visit me at home at Christmas. After that he dropped off the face of the earth and I didn't hear anything else about him for about 4 years, by which time I had scoured the internet and found the man of my dreams and married him. I was pretty much over Matt by then... heehee. I spoke to him about a year ago and in my inebriated state told him about my crush on him. He claimed to have been oblivious. I don't know how... everyone else I knew was very aware of it.
So as you know if you bother to read my blog at all, my reunion is coming up at the end of this week. Hopefully Matt and is lovely wife Lori will be there. Also hopefully, he won't have read this and told his wife about it. I'd really have to die of embarassment. Oh well... I plan to drink before going, so maybe after a few cocktails there I just won't care even if it is brought up.
So there is my tale of love and woe. I hope yours is just as goofy and makes you feel as stupid as mine does.
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