In another life, known as the age of 14, I had a big crush on a boy. Before I get started recalling any type of detail about the nature of our relationship - no relationship whatsoever, actually - I feel compelled to describe our differences in outward appearance.
Jason, last name Whothehellknows, was a rather attractive specimen of boy. Tall, slender, rather nice hair, amazing glasses. He was probably the boy that got me started on my love of guys that wear glasses, actually. I liked them so much that I even renamed him. Pretty Glasses Boy he was dubbed, PGB for short and I was completely infatuate. So was the rest of the female student body, to be honest. He delivered letters and memos to other classrooms for the office and you could hear the murmur down the hall from the girls after he left a room.
I, on the other hand, was on the other side of aesthetically pleasing. I was short, too skinny, and my hair was wrong. Come to think of it, when isn't my hair wrong? I digress. He had no clever nickname for me, he just called me Ashley, and I'm rather positive that he never found me more attractive than any other girl that fawned over him in the school. And I must say, there were quite a few girls fawning.
On one rather inspired day, I took the time to write Jason a note about my feelings. How much I liked him and other bits of senseless drivel. I gave it to him just before the bell rang for first period and with a hopeful heart I located him just before lunch for what I believed would have been a pleasant response to my heartfelt outpouring. I couldn't have been more wrong. I don't know if I can think of an example, even now after all these years, of a person who has worked their way so hard around a subject. He acted as if nothing had ever happened, like I hadn't just given him a 3 page letter about how much I liked him! The nerve of that boy.
I spent the rest of the day silent and on the verge of tears. Then, at some point on the bus ride home, I came up with a brilliant idea. Just bug him until he loves me! 14 year old alien Ashley was a genius and she was certain that this plan would work. Because I was a brave little girl who got what she wanted, and for a while it was working, until I moved to England 5 months later and subsequently lost all contact with the boy of my dreams.
The point of this lovely tale was not just to give the world an inside view of my twisted mind, but instead to show just how much of a go-getter I used to be. I liked someone, I told them. A boy didn't quite like me back, I made sure that he changed his mind. The way I figured, when I wanted something, I deserved to get it and I would make damn sure that I did. So what happened to that part of me?
I have a crush on a boy right now, so do you know what I do about it? I ignore it and I ignore him. Refusing to call or text him for fear that I'd be annoying even though in the past we spoke to each other on a daily basis. I'm crippled by fear and this is something uncommon of the girl that I used to be and a clear indication that I have grown into a coward. Why? I'm not entirely sure, but I do know that I don't like it.
On the plus side, I may be a coward, but I grew up to be a lot less obnoxious looking than Jason Whatshisface does right now. Something seemed to go wrong for him at the age of 17. Oh, the stories I could tell you of his sideburns and the rather depressing decision he made to get rid of his glasses. Bad move on his part, but it was only then that he realized that he really thought I was cute. "I didn't know what to think," he said. "I was young and didn't know how to feel about you. But I like you now." Oh, right, after I grew the boobs.
In my last act of bravery as a small alien life-form, I laughed in his face, told him, "oops, too late," and then kissed him goodbye. That makes me a winner.
Jason, last name Whothehellknows, was a rather attractive specimen of boy. Tall, slender, rather nice hair, amazing glasses. He was probably the boy that got me started on my love of guys that wear glasses, actually. I liked them so much that I even renamed him. Pretty Glasses Boy he was dubbed, PGB for short and I was completely infatuate. So was the rest of the female student body, to be honest. He delivered letters and memos to other classrooms for the office and you could hear the murmur down the hall from the girls after he left a room.
I, on the other hand, was on the other side of aesthetically pleasing. I was short, too skinny, and my hair was wrong. Come to think of it, when isn't my hair wrong? I digress. He had no clever nickname for me, he just called me Ashley, and I'm rather positive that he never found me more attractive than any other girl that fawned over him in the school. And I must say, there were quite a few girls fawning.
On one rather inspired day, I took the time to write Jason a note about my feelings. How much I liked him and other bits of senseless drivel. I gave it to him just before the bell rang for first period and with a hopeful heart I located him just before lunch for what I believed would have been a pleasant response to my heartfelt outpouring. I couldn't have been more wrong. I don't know if I can think of an example, even now after all these years, of a person who has worked their way so hard around a subject. He acted as if nothing had ever happened, like I hadn't just given him a 3 page letter about how much I liked him! The nerve of that boy.
I spent the rest of the day silent and on the verge of tears. Then, at some point on the bus ride home, I came up with a brilliant idea. Just bug him until he loves me! 14 year old alien Ashley was a genius and she was certain that this plan would work. Because I was a brave little girl who got what she wanted, and for a while it was working, until I moved to England 5 months later and subsequently lost all contact with the boy of my dreams.
The point of this lovely tale was not just to give the world an inside view of my twisted mind, but instead to show just how much of a go-getter I used to be. I liked someone, I told them. A boy didn't quite like me back, I made sure that he changed his mind. The way I figured, when I wanted something, I deserved to get it and I would make damn sure that I did. So what happened to that part of me?
I have a crush on a boy right now, so do you know what I do about it? I ignore it and I ignore him. Refusing to call or text him for fear that I'd be annoying even though in the past we spoke to each other on a daily basis. I'm crippled by fear and this is something uncommon of the girl that I used to be and a clear indication that I have grown into a coward. Why? I'm not entirely sure, but I do know that I don't like it.
On the plus side, I may be a coward, but I grew up to be a lot less obnoxious looking than Jason Whatshisface does right now. Something seemed to go wrong for him at the age of 17. Oh, the stories I could tell you of his sideburns and the rather depressing decision he made to get rid of his glasses. Bad move on his part, but it was only then that he realized that he really thought I was cute. "I didn't know what to think," he said. "I was young and didn't know how to feel about you. But I like you now." Oh, right, after I grew the boobs.
In my last act of bravery as a small alien life-form, I laughed in his face, told him, "oops, too late," and then kissed him goodbye. That makes me a winner.
I like this post
ReplyDeleteAnd I like Ashley
But I am afraid to tell her
For I am crippled by the fear
That she
Will cut off my fingers
(i miss you)