Oh … to be age fourteen and feel the earth-shattering sting of unrequited love. And how I loved Andrew! I would gaze upon the sun every morning with grand confusion wondering how it would continue to rise and set, how every living organism on earth did not cease to exist, as sadly I did not hold Andrew’s heart in my tiny hands.
August 23rd, 1992
I’d like to explain my “love life” to you now. I don’t have one; yes. And I think that I want one … but I’m unsure if I would say yes if a guy were to ask me out because I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I don’t know if I’m ready to start quite yet! I just wouldn’t know how to act. I mean, like, what if he wants to KISS me?? What do I do then? And, like, holding hands. It’s, like, really lame. The only person I hold hands with is my little brother when I walk him across the street. It all seems too confusing. I’d never know how to act.
August 31st, 1992
I like Andrew soooooooooo much. I wish we could become better friends. I wonder if he even likes me a little. I dreamt about Andrew last night. Isn’t that sweet? Andrew is pretty nice. He talks to me. He told me I’m a great actress at the dance. He kept on calling me “darling” at the baseball game. And he went on the Ferris wheel with me at the fair. He said his girlfriend would be pissed off. He said he would love me and be my bestest, bestest friend if I gave him some candy at the movies. He’s a great guy, and he’s sooooooooo cute. All the other girls think he’s cute too. Gosh, I love Andrew. He’s such a dream. That’s probably all he’ll ever be.
Eventually, I awoke from the dream world of a female high school freshmen with an obvious flair for the dramatic. No longer did such phrases as “he talks to me” qualify a male for my ever enduring love and admiration, and well … at times, bordering on obsession (I cut a sports photo of him out of the local newspaper and put it under my pillow). Sharing your Milk Duds with the guy you had a crush on didn’t turn the relationship into always and forever either.
Furthermore, the concerns I expressed to my diary were absolutely verified when Andrew dumped that pissed off girlfriend and began to take more notice of me. I was right; I had no damn idea how to behave with a boy I liked. This was confirmed when he asked me to accompany him on a double date to the movies. I eagerly agreed, my expectations entirely too high for an evening of sitting in the dark, musty local theatre.
My friend must not have shared my opinion of hand-holding, as she happily held her date’s hand and leaned in to him. She knew all the right moves. When Andrew put the “snake arm” around me in our uncomfortable seats, I shook it right off. We didn’t hold hands or share popcorn. I got bored and fell asleep. I needed to be shaken awake by Andrew when the film ended. Quite obviously, my dreams were far more romantic than reality, and my crush was ending as the credits rolled.
Maybe I had watched too many romantic movies (I was also obsessed with Jake Ryan in Sixteen Candles) or read too many Judy Blume books, so I had expected my first date to lead into “Forever.” Instead, I was bored, and I snored, and some little shit seated near me spilled his soda on me while I was sleeping because my pants were all sticky when I woke up. Fuck, at least that’s what I had always assumed. I sure hope my date wasn’t jerking off in the theatre as I slept. You're welcome for that imagery.
Either way, I no longer shared intimate desires of Andrew with my dear diary. I threw the picture under my pillow away (thank goodness). I stopped caring that the other girls still thought he was cute as I had found out he was really a bore. I didn’t worry about holding hands or first kisses, and I concentrated on loving myself rather than finding the love of my life before it was even legal for me to drive. Some dreams should never be born into reality because they are bound to disappoint.
And ... OMG! I just found out you can buy this awesome tee shirt!
Who is going to buy me this shit? I so NEED this!