Here is something I’ve never done before. A disclaimer; I wasn’t ever going to put this out for the world the read for several reasons. The number one reason being, it sounds like I’m holding a grudge against the two individuals I’m discussing. I’m not. I don’t harbor any ill will towards them anymore. We were all young and stupid and things happened. I’m simply retelling things the way I remember. With that said I will begin.
There are two boys that have screwed up nearly every relationship I’ve had since meeting them. Obviously I can’t use their real names (even though who they are will be obvious to people who are familiar with the situations discussed). We’ll call them Tim and Todd.
I met Tim through a series of mutual friends. I don’t know what it was that drew me to him. He wasn’t particularly smart, or charming. In fact he was crude and loud. It was probably the fact that at 15 his life lay in complete ruins.
That sounds mean, but it was true. His life was unstable.
Let me start over. From a very young age, I was what I like to call a rescuer. I would save bugs and lizards from drowning in our pool. I made hospitals from shoeboxes and even revived one or two things. This probably means that I should have gone into medicine or nursing or some such nonsense like that. For a while I wanted to be a veterinarian. But thanks to the California school system that doesn’t teach kids who don’t understand math properly, that dream went up in smoke. I should have been a vet. That’s for another time though.
So Tim came into my life by accident and by accident or by my deep need to heal things I reached out to him in friendship. Friendship soon became a crush and that crush spread like a rash. I knew he was bad, the things I wanted to do with him were bad. But I couldn’t stop myself.
He liked to play games. We were friends one day, suddenly the next I wasn’t fit to spit on. I’d try to smile and talk to him, but was met with a cold wall, who avoided me at every turn. Then I heard a rumor, I don’t know if it’s true, it came from an unreliable source.
“Hey Staci” Mr. Unreliable Source asked. “Why do they call you sluttly slut?” We were in class; granted it was theatre class (which basically meant free time) so no one really heard, except a few people.
“What? Who does?” I asked. I had lines to memorize, but now all my attention was focused on Mr. Unreliable.
“Tim does.” He said. I felt the tears well up in my eyes and the memory after that is blank. I don’t know what I said, or did; if I hid in the bathroom and cried. If I tried to continue with class, or if I just went back to my seat and tried to be very small. I just remember being so hurt by those words. I tried to help Tim, to be his friend. And maybe that was the problem. I couldn’t even save myself, and I was trying to save him. From that day on, Tim could always screw with my head. We had a hollywoodesqe on again off again relationship that no one could properly figure out. He had issues with lies that I’ve never understood. It was in the midst of this confusion and hurt that Todd entered the scene.
Todd sauntered into English class with so much confidence; you couldn’t take your eyes off him. The fact that he was wearing yellow sunglasses and a bright orange t-shirt with the handicapped sign on it was difficult to ignore as well. My friends and I sat on the left side of the room closest to the door, third row back. Todd came in and walked all the way to the right side of the classroom. Then he glanced up and saw me. I don’t know what he saw, but I think I smiled. He was one of those rare hot high school boys and hot boys never paid attention to me, even when I would smile at them, so I assumed this would be the case. Todd stopped and walked all the way back and sat down right next to me. Again this is where the memory goes blank, probably with euphoria. I’m sure he said “Hi, I’m Todd” or some such thing, but I don’t know if I said anything back, or if I sat there blushing.
We started dating. He was new to the school, from Washington State, very exotic indeed. It was strange for me, having someone this attractive like me and want to be with me. We kissed in one of those warm desert down pours and that is what I remember as our first kiss. It’s still in my top five kisses of all time, very close to the top. (In fact it was only unseated from number one when I met the man I was going to marry and he kissed me for the first time.) It was like a freaking movie in that everything was so perfect and felt…well right.
But even still things fell apart. He broke up with me about two weeks later, and to this day I’m not sure he knows how much he hurt me. His breakup line etched on my brain was “I don’t know where this is going.” Perhaps he didn’t, or perhaps he finally figured out I wasn’t popular and wasn’t as beautiful as someone else that he vigorously pursued for the remainder of our sophomore year. The real downer of it is this was the first relationship to get my mind off Tim and I really, really liked this guy. After that I had two very different guys to wonder about constantly.
So there it is. I realize the boys are not completely to blame. They played their hand, but it’s not their fault that I’m some sort of neurotic, over analyzing weirdo, as many of the female persuasion are. I don’t blame them as much as I used to, but I’m not going to say they didn’t screw up, because they did. It is my fault, however, for not moving on, over analyzing every little encounter and dwelling on things they had forgotten moments later.
And that’s why I stand by my own personal revelation; I should have converted to Catholicism and become a Nun.