There was a boy in high school. He was tall, tan, and had the loveliest blond curls. But it was his piercing blue eyes that always got my attention. I couldn’t help but get lost in his appearance. He was so attractive and he knew it — there was not a shred of doubt that he didn’t know it. He was always highly sought after by many of the girls when we went to leadership camp for our student council: and why wouldn’t he be? He was very good looking and other people from high school and camp were not afraid to admit it. I do not know why I was attracted to him, crushing on him like a silly school girl. Was it his position in high school, being that he was voted in as Student Council President? Was it the fact that he was a soccer player and he played a sport that I was very passionate about at the time? Or was it that he knew how to dress and that navy suit he wore to States complicated him so well. Nonetheless, maybe it was because I believed him to be a nice guy and not a stereotypical high school boy: a player. The fact that he was so unbelievably nice made him so different from the other boys. I always noticed how good he was to our classmates and the children at 5th grade camp when we were counselors. When I asked him to take pictures with me, he did not mind. Though that is what friends do and he has taken thousands of photos with other girls.
Helping him in PreCalc, having small platonic conversations and working on the art mural for our high school was enough satisfaction for me. However, when I turned to him in class, I would wish that something was there when it was obvious there wasn’t. For I know the reality that we live in. That a boy like him is too immature to handle anything remotely real. I think he saw me only as his little sister. Always there to help but never recognized for her work. I think when he talked to me he saw me as a game. Or I think that he enjoyed making fun of me— he would not be the first guy. That is why I keep my feelings so secret and reserved. Though I will not lie. I flirted with him once or twice. But nothing that indicated my true feelings or my crush in any way.
At prom, I was nervous to talk to him. I was always nervous when I tried to talk to him. Especially when he was around his friends. I never want to interrupt their conversations, as that is rude and I do not think he would be too happy with me coming into the gathering. When I looked at him, I felt shy and tried to make sure that my cheeks did not blush into a bright shade of red. I am never shy, and yet this is how I feel. Debating the very idea of how to approach someone, or if to do it at all. When I would even think twice about joining a conversation. Yet, the most important part was I was myself around him. I would have felt ashamed if I wasn’t.
Then came the nicknames. During one of our conversations at States with our friends I made a joke by calling him Mr. Robinson, a character from an old time movie called The Graduate. The nickname was meant to be nothing more than playful and flirtatious. His friends even took a liking to the nickname and proceeded to call him it when I was around. I confess that it was funny and I mostly did it for the amusement of my friends. Not realizing such a name would cause discomfort and nonetheless adults would only understand the meaning behind the name,as high school students generally don’t care for movies that were made in late 1960s and starred Dustin Hoffman. When he told me in secret that he felt uncomfortable about the nickname, I wanted to apologize. But I didn’t, and I will admit that I did debate for a while about whether or not I should have. I admit I shouldn’t have to apologize for something that his friends took completely out of proportion. Though I created the nickname, I shouldn’t have to apologize for him being unable to take a joke when he played many jokes on me. In addition, I shouldn’t have to apologize if it is his friends who are on the blunt end of the bullet. I will disclose that I was once called an embarrassing nickname, but it died and the guy was an old friend who did it mainly as a joke and to embarrass me in the process, which I’ve noticed is how most guys tend to behave in high school. Whether it was a joke or a tactic to embarrass me, I did not care and just ignored him, which I learned is how a mature person acts in this situation. The nickname eventually died out as he got annoyed by how I would not react to his joke.
When it came to my crush I felt like I should have known better. That I shouldn’t let my emotions cloud my judgement. That I should trust my gut and my instincts when nothing adds up correctly. For the prospect of friends was good enough and I shouldn’t get involved in his life if he doesn’t want to get involved with mine. For there are better boys out there in the world that are mature and wonderful guys. In other words it is just best to move on.
I never wished to get over somebody more in my life. I always debated asking him if he liked me — at least that would end the bloody emotions. Yet something held me back that I should not, that he is not worth it and that life would go on not knowing the truth. That he would make a joke out of it and, besides, what is the point if we are going to different colleges anyway?
I realize the fact that we would never have been endgame like Archie and Betty. That high school couples like that only happen once in a lifetime. That if we were to date, I feel that it would not last that long. We would both be stuck and held back by each other’s dreams — the paths we have chosen are too different to ignore. I guarantee that we would not be able to achieve our own individual goals if we were to date. Besides, God has his own plans for us. Whatever God has planned I should be willing to accept and not hold back from the path that has been created for me.
It was a pleasure to get to know you and I hope you will achieve your dreams and grow into a respectable and good man for your future girlfriend. For you no longer tether me to the world and I will never lack confidence or self-esteem because of you.