Kissing Chronicles 1- From the Begging

My dad used to say “Don’t treat someone as they are, treat them as you want them to be.” And I believe I was living proof of that. From a young age my mother would whisper in my ear that I was a heart breaker, and my dad would condone ripping boys to shreds. Believing this, at a young age I had every tool at my disposal. I always heard stories of girls chasing boys around the playground, but I don’t recall ever doing it myself. I was raised in diapers along two boys who were the first boys to tell me they loved me. I officially “dated “every single boy in my school by third grade. I flipped my hair and batted my eyelashes, and declared I was a princess- and everyone believed me.

 When discussing this later in life, one boy told me that I dumped him on the playground with the words“Well there is this boy on tv and…”. Another told me that I promised I would kiss him if he kicked a ball over the fence, and he spent every day at recess doing nothing but trying to kick the ball over. When he finally got it over I told him I was "Over it".” In forth grade I remember a girl in my class and a boy in my class decided they liked each other. This was the first time I felt the emotion of jealousy. I marched up to him right after Mrs. Pratt’s class and I told him I liked him. I even dedicated some NYSNC song to him. That night he walked right past her and asked to hold my hand while ice skating, We “dated” for two days, and I dumped him for a new kid. I know- what a trashy little forth grader. But karma caught up to me and soon I turned into a very awkward looking girl.

I got the idea into my head that I should cut my own bangs and it would turn out as well as it did in the movie “The Parent Trap.” I learned the true definition of karma when I had to get glasses shortly after making some boy cry by calling him four eyes. At that time they didn’t have anything but big, wire rimmed glasses that took up half my face. My baby teeth started falling out- and I convinced my mother that I could dress myself so I went everywhere in overalls.  The scabs and scars from being a klutz, weren’t seen as cute anymore, but instead quite depressing. Overall I was a mess. And it was right before entering 6^th grade- where there would be a new selection of boys from the other schools entering it.

The Summer Before I Started Middle School 

 

The most memorable person I met was a toe head blonde boy. Because I knew that I was in an ugly duckling phase- instead of demanding he be mine, I asked Moira for all the dirt on him. She continued to tell me all the things that made him even more attractive to me- he had never been in a “relationship” and he was afraid of girls. Perfect. My first challenge.

It started out simple, having my friends tell him I liked him. They came back to me shaking their heads. The only things they would tell me was “He just turned red and his friends laughed.” This outraged me and fascinated me at the same time. We had four classes together, and during every class I would stare at his head- wishing I could read it. The less and less he responded- the harder and harder I fell. Soon my friends and I had codenames- and secret missions of how to get him to like me. For the sake of secrecy, I will call him the code name we referred to him by all through out middle school- Oliver Wood.

Why anyone was friends with me for those two years, I couldn’t tell you. I can not think of a single middle school experience that didn’t have anything to do with Oliver. I wrote his name on every tree I saw then kissed it, on every piece of paper, I had cds dedicated to him, I wrote down his locker number, his mothers license plate number, his schedule- stalking seems like a nice way of putting it. Thank goodness he never caught on how truly crazy the situation was at the time, but everyone else around me did. I don’t think I spoke a single sentence those two years that didn’t go back to Oliver and my obsession. I started writing him love notes.

The first love note I wrote him started “From the Begging I knew I was in love with you.” His friend pointed out that I couldn’t spell, and I locked myself up in my room and cried while listening to my Oliver song- “Have a little faith in me.” Apparently they teased him for that, but he just told himself they were jealous that an outgoing, intimidating girl wasn’t writing them.

Why did I like him so much? Because I couldn’t have him. This is what started my unfounded obsession with the things that are out of reach. I think a part of me knew that if I simply had a conversation with him then I could potentially have him- a fact later confirmed by him. But instead I passive aggressively  went after it, hoping it could work out without having to take a chance. He originally thought I was cute, but I pushed him away by being a stalker. I used to tell all my friends that I was too afraid to take a chance, but I never was. There was no reason for me to fear rejection yet. I realized that when I asked him years later if I ever stood a chance with him and already knew the answer.  The thing I was afraid of was loosing the idea of him. From far away I could make him my prince charming, but I knew the second he started liking me he would be like every other boy. So I pushed him away while chasing him- without even knowing what I was doing.

I loved the idea of love and chased it. So there was two years of my life planning and destroying at the same time. My friends parents still tease me about that obsession (everyone knew), and I just laugh. Thank goodness I grew out of the stalking and learned from it. 

I also found out later from him that he noticed the way I would talk really loud around him because I was nervous- something I still do. Need to work on that.