Boys = crazy (me and them both) – 329.5

Maybe it was suddenly being in a bigger venue, but there were just a lot more boys to like once I was in junior high. Maybe as we aged they were also getting cuter. Hormones could possibly have been a factor too, though I don’t remember noticing that aspect until high school. I did develop a specific type that I liked, which was basically baby-faced basketball players. Yes, I liked them tall, gangly, and with cute boyish faces. I did not learn to appreciate a strong jaw line until later, though Scott had one, and he was the first boy I noticed. However, in general, they were more boyish looking and definitely tall. The epitome of this was Bobby.

Now, I have just named two people, and used their real names. I have sort have been working it so that high school graduation is the dividing line; with boys before we can use their real names, and after that we switch to fake names. I did not really make this decision actively, because with more recent people I was using fake names, but when I wrote about Mike I used his real name without even thinking about it. However, it also seems pretty safe. Remembering Five Oaks, I can think of three Kevins and five Scotts and more Jasons than you can shake a stick at. It wasn’t like today when parents try to prove how unique their child is, and so will inadvertently end up with a class full of Cadens and Madisons, except that some of them will have the spelling jacked up.

(I blame celebrities for that. We could also blame teen pregnancy, but then you can just blame that on celebrities too, so it’s all a circle.)

Now, from the posting about the terrible incident that happened in junior high, I have already covered that I liked a lot of boys, and that my friends and I were pretty zealous about assigning code names. This may have gone along with the need for ignorance (because you can’t let boys know that you like them), but also, we did have a flair for the dramatic. Generally, it was very innocent and fun, and led to more talk between us but no talk with the boys.

I did end up with another bad boy (drug dealer) I liked, and I got to talk to him a fair amount because our lockers were next to each other one year. It was also a time of trying new things, as I realized that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with drama, so quit drama club to join the yearbook staff and changed my drama class to beginning guitar. (I was a pretty good addition to the yearbook team, but was not good at guitar.) I had good friends, most of whom I am still in touch with today, and I pulled off straight A’s in 9th grade because I knew it would go on my transcript and figure it would be the one such year where doing so was possible.

Of course, I did pick up some deep psychological scars that took roughly twenty years to get past, but we knew that already. Where the additional personal analysis is needed is in three other mistakes I made that are worth review.

The peer pressure: Of all the boys I liked during that time period, the only one who stings now is Chris. This is partly because I think I was too obvious, but even more it is because I did not like him on my own—I was sort of talked into it. The other girls talked about how cute he was and smart and all those things, and I eventually kind of made myself like him, but this is stupid. If the chemistry is not there, let it lie. If I could have learned this then, the other Aaron thing might not have happened. Sure, my reasons for not liking Chris on my own were probably pretty shallow. I think it was largely due to the fact that he was short. Maybe he seemed a little snobbish and not lively, but yeah, knowing me it was probably mainly the height. Anyway, if you are going to put yourself out there for someone, make it count with someone you really think is great.

The peer group: I hung out with a great group of girls, but there were also boys who hung out with us, and not only was I not attracted to them, but I also didn’t really like them much as people. They were nerds, I guess, and probably we were too, but they seemed to have more superior attitudes about it, or something. Looking at them later, one is a complete sociopath (not homicidal, I think), one is incredibly bitter (with some really strange ideas), and man, I don’t even know how to describe the third one. I don’t know what happened to the fourth one. He was the nicest, but he was still pretty weird (and short). I just think that spending time with boys whom I found to be likable and good people might have been a good idea.

The missed opportunity: This is the one that I kick myself over. It didn’t happen at school, but at a church dance. Specifically, it was New Year’s Eve when I was 14, almost 15. And yes, the scarring incident had already happened, which was probably a factor. Anyway, at the dance I met a boy. He was nice, and I think cute, and we seemed to really hit it off. I knew that the New Year’s tradition was that you kissed whomever you were with at midnight, and I wanted to be with him at midnight. We had danced, and then he came up and found me again, talking to a different guy. It was still a lot before midnight, and I was afraid he would get tired of me by then, so I left him talking with Brian, and then my plan was to find him again. However, when the time came, I couldn’t find him. Maybe he left. He looked a bit hurt and confused when I left.

It was just so remarkably dumb, and it was possibly hurtful to someone else, and it happened because I couldn’t believe in myself even when the signs were there that he actually did want to spend time with me. For me, that’s the trifecta. I wish I had just asked him to go somewhere and talk. I never saw him again. Mystery guy—I hope you are not badly scarred, and that you know that sometimes people do stupid things that have nothing to do with you.

Apparently, much like at the end of elementary school, I was still too immature for a relationship. And you know, age is not a reliable predictor.