Feelings About a Boy

This is a story about a boy and my unfortunate growing obsession with him that isn’t helped along at all by my friends who only seem to urge it on. It’s unhealthy; I am aware, and so very creepy it’s not even funny. His name is Garrett; terribly adorable. His codename is Drummer Boy (DB for short) after the first time I set eyes on him at a jazz band concert where he, well, played drums obviously. He is arguably the most beautiful boy I have ever set eyes on. He’s tall and slender. He has dark, well kept hair and equally dark, piercing eyes. I could into more detail but I’d rather not let on just how crazy I am because I have never even talked to this boy and you’ll only be let in on just how creepy I am. Plus I don’t like to gush; I’m afraid it might ruin your shoes and they are quite nice today.

I’ve had my eye on this boy for a little under a year ever since that fateful night when I had to go to the jazz band concert to fulfill a requirement for my music class. He’s mostly just been a small blip on my radar; something nice to feast my eyes on from time to time. He’s beautiful so he’s obviously not in my league and I’m not at a place in my life where I even want a relationship (or at least that’s always my excuse.) He’s just a nice break from all the girls and socially awkward or gay boys on the campus.

So then the other night we convinced my roommate to go to dinner with us (a rare occurrence as she usually eats in the room.) This gave the rest of my suitemates and myself the chance to show her the attractive boys (including this particular one) who usually the sit at the table perpendicular to the one we usually sit at. She gave us her stamp of approval and mentioned that DB had a rather nice patootskie (her word, not mine.) This also meant that the rest of the night she kept tabs on him (mostly for my purpose) and noticed that every time I stood up to do something (get cereal, a spoon, throw something away, etc…) he would supposedly lean forward in his seat and follow my movements. Now this only came as a slight surprise to me because a couple days before I had been walking back form class as he was walking to class and it appeared that he was staring me down as we passed on the sidewalk.

However, due to reasons that will be discussed in a moment, I didn’t take this very seriously assuming that he was probably looking at something over my shoulder and not at me because the likelihood of his actually looking at me is slim to none. We come from completely different social circles and I don’t see him being interested in a nerdy, awkward girl such as myself. So when Sam told me this, a flood of contradictory emotions washed over me: excitement, fear, disbelief, nervousness, doubt.

Why do I doubt all of this? Well in 7^th grade something similar happened. I had to walk from one part of the building through the long “glass hallway” everyday and while walking down this hallway I always passed the same boy and I could swear that he would watch me. I was so convinced that I told all my friends (who humored me and agreed that he was most definitely watching me in the hall) and of course developed a huge crush on him. He consequently was also a drummer. I started seeing him everywhere. He was in band and the 7^th and 8^th grade bands had to collaborate for the spring concert that year because their sizes had diminished so much. I was absolutely thrilled; I had delusions that after hearing my beautiful oboe playing he would finally admit his love for me. Because of course he was in love with me. Why else would he stare at me every single day in the hall?!

The band concert came and went and nothing came of it. I wrote a letter to him professing all the pent up pubescent feelings I had for him and asked him when he would get the balls to talk to me (although I’m sure at 13 I didn’t use the term “balls” in my letter.) I then proceeded to tear it up and throw it away. I even CAST LOVE SPELLS FOR THIS BOY!! I was THAT strung up on him with my preteen over-active hormones. It was truly terrible in hindsight. I had acquired his AIM screen name at some point and spent hours gazing at his profile. My male friend had also acquired his screen name and used it to blackmail me into doing things for him which kept me terrified and yet slightly thrilled, daring him to do it. He never did tell him and a part of me knew he wouldn’t.

Finally one night I was staying over at my friend’s house and we were on her computer talking to people on AIM. She also had his screen name seeing as they were in the same youth group together (she would feed my obsession with keeping me up to date on the goings on at her youth group and sometimes even taking me along.) We discussed it and I agreed she could IM him and ask about me. She did and his response was “Who?” My heart sank. She told him who I was and I think she may have had told him about my crush on him, I honestly don’t know for sure because I was too focused on trying not to be sick. I do however remember his one word response: “Gross.” I was absolutely crushed. I hit rock bottom. I couldn’t even cry. I sat at her kitchen table and just stared at nothing feeling that my life was over because that’s what you feel when you’re 13 and the boy you have a huge crush on says you’re gross. YOU DON’T CALL A 13 YEAR OLD GIRL SHE IS GROSS!! I was already self-conscious and worried about my appearance and my personality and this only proved the fact that I was ugly and pimply and…well…gross. Nobody would love me, ever. I was devastated. My friend told me not to worry about it; he clearly was an asshole and didn’t deserve me, etc… She then made me super chocolaty milk and put a curly straw in it. We spent the rest of the night watching Titanic and of course I cried harder when Jack drowns than I had ever cried before (or at least that’s what it felt like because at 13 everything is melodramatic.)

And thus why I can believe that any boy has actually liked me, especially that this one now. Maybe that’s a bold statement to say “any boy” but whenever I find out a boy likes me I have the hardest time believing it. Yes, I have confidence issues and maybe it’s not fare to pin it all on that one boy so many years ago but I feel it damaged some part of me and I still doubt that DB was looking at me that night.

The terrible thing is that with her telling me this it’s given me a glimmer of hope and now I can’t stop thinking about it and I’m quickly escalating to my 13 years old self again. I’m terrified that I’m going to be kicked over a cliff again though and if it turns out she was right I fear I’ll never be able to trust anything he tells me which is pretty common with most boys who attempt to have a romantic relationship with me. I fear they’re only saying the things they say to get in my pants and that deep down they see me as that gross, insecure, 13 year old girl drinking chocolate milk through a twisty straw and sobbing to Titanic.

So...I'm screwed up.