From elementary school to freshman year of high school, I thought that no boys would ever like me. At least no boys that I wanted. I made feeble attempts at catching male interest in seventh grade (to no avail), and eventually gave up in eighth. Now, this is not to say that sooome boys didn't like me. I remember dating Brendon who chased me for a year until I agreed to be his girlfriend, and my best guy friend says that in seventh grade I had quite the following of devoted admirers (almost stalkers). I didn't see it, though, and I suppose that's what really matters when you're a middle school girl with low self-esteem. Oh yeah, I also really liked to write sappy poetry.
The turning point of this "O sorrow upon sorrow, I will never find a boy who likes me" attitude occurred at the Brownsburg July 4th carnival.
I had grown up a lot, but not so in the boy department. One Jess, whom I believed to be my only true love, evaded me entirely.
I received my first kiss from an afro-ed boy who eventually broke up with me so that he could smoke pot more often. Here is one of several sappy, dramatic poems about him:
Into your face I stare
curly locks of hair
hiding the hidden glare
that only drugs can bring.
Your life is thrown away
you take it day by day
wondering what to say
when you're caught
put on the spot
you push me from your bay.
I only wanted to hold your hand
and touch your heart,
but you cared too little
and ended it before
our start.
Torn apart
I cry, and wonder why
but god,
I know why.
The only guy who was even respectable I avoided because he was "too much of a good friend". And now, the July 4th carnival, and two guys liked me.
Will and Alex.
Alex was a fixer-upper. He was messed up in every way imaginable, and I loved it. Here is one poem I wrote after he went to rehab:
Tossled hair a
tangled knot of
sleep and reality,
they pick you up and
kick you out of
your life
my life
where will you be
who will you be
without you
without me?
I mean nothing, I'm aware.
You just stare into blue.
You may come to the light
but what is my plight
without you?
And Will, I have written no poems about, mainly because he did not have many problems at all, in my mind. So there it is. Will was trying to steal me away from Alex (and he eventually succeeded), and I was purely blissful.
My friend and I were just walking around, giggling incessantly and gossiping about this and that, when an extremely gorgeous guy caught my eye. Looking back, I'm positive he was actually rather gross, but that is not the point. And then I thought, well hey, why not look back and smile? I'm on the top of the world right now. And oh, was this boy good. He casually followed me around the park until I was alone for a brief second, and then he made his move.
"Hey!"
(oh god, there's the gorgeous boy. What do I do? Is he even talking to me? Well THAT would be embarrassing if I said hi back and he was talking to someone else)
"Umm...hey?"
"Soo...how's it going? My name's Eric..." blahblahblah. We exchanged information, flirted (which WOW, was that a foreign concept to me) and before I knew it Eric had his arm around me and we were headed away from my friends. I remember thinking (not thinking is more like it), I'm so lucky! He's so funny and sweet and he actually likes me!!
"Why don't we go behind these campers?" says Eric, in a drawling, hushed voice.
"Well, we can't see the fireworks from there!"
"But we'd have some privacy" (and with this, he takes my hand and kisses it).
OHGOD. What do I do?! My friends are nowhere in sight, and this stranger obviously wants more from me than I want to give.
After many "Come ons" and "Baby, you look so pretty tonights"...I came to my senses and said "Actually, I have to get back to my friends" and then wrote a fiery poem full of baseball cliches and anger. And here it is:
What kind of guy are you
to look me up
and try to check me out
for the evening
when there is no room for me
with you.
Guys like you know how to
spit game like big leaguers but
I have a bat,
and you'd better believe
that there won't be a home run for you.
I'll knock you right out of the park.
Keep your distance,
girls aren't toys!
If you want that,
go find Barbie.
So in one night my illusive fantasy of falling in love with a boy who really wanted me, and who I wanted as well, was dashed, ruined, killed.
I dated Will for three years, never glancing back at the queasiness I felt that night, but I have been forced to feel it recently.
Apparently some guys still have that mindset. They "spit game like big leaguers" and then only want one thing. I suppose some girls want guys like that. I sure don't.
I want someone who I can talk to. Someone who likes me for me. Someone who isn't here just to "play the game" to try to see how many girls he can get (I believe that's called a womanizer?), but someone who I'm naturally drawn to and who respects me.
I am perfectly confident that such a person will find me, maybe he already has and we just don't know it yet. But for now, I'm perfectly content and I know what love is...because it exists within me, in boundless supply.
