random thoughts and thoroughbred selections

Monday, April 05, 2004

Crushing

�Why do I fall in love with every woman I see that shows me the least bit of attention?� (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind)

I was having a beer with a guy I don�t know all that well last week. He had graduated the year after I did from the same high school, which meant that he was of the same class as most of the people with whom I was friends.

He brought up his class reunion, held over Thanksgiving weekend, and I was curious about a few names, which he had some minor (at best) updates on for me.

Unsolicited, he then said, �You know who got absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in college, went wild, and was basically valedictorian of her class at U of M?�

I knew already.

Mel was a girl with whom I had the most unbelievably unfortunate timing. I loved her straightaway. Actually, I�m pretty sure there wasn�t a time where I didn�t, but priorities change. For a girl who had quite a bit already, she also had a ridiculous amount of potential.

Smartest and sharpest girl I�ve ever known? Check. Ambitious as all hell? Uh huh. Cute? Sure.

When I first met her, and fell hard for her, she was still seeing the 9th grade boyfriend. Three years running. For a girl who was as flat-out brilliant as this one, I failed to see what the hell she could possibly see in him. He was one of those knuckleheads whose career path was going to be determined by whether he enjoyed working on foreign or domestic cars better.

I think there was something enormously personal in her choice. She lived with her dad, who was the type of guy who was parked in the Barcalounger all day, and only barked at you if he wanted another beer.

Maybe by trying to redeem a guy like this, she was subconsciously trying to redeem her father.

So, the timing was bad.

It got worse when she started showing interest in me. At that point, I was tunnel-visioned into the thought that I was utterly and irretrievably in love with another girl from high school, and she was all I could talk about. For almost two years. Even though I got absolutely nowhere with her.

Mel and I would visit each other on rare occasions in college. She just kept becoming more and more her own woman, and it was really impressive to watch. Unfortunately, it was at a serious distance.

Shell was another girl on whom I developed a tremendous crush in high school. Truth be told, I drooled over her twin sister (at the time, they were the sexy one and the mousy one) for months, but then Shell and I were cast opposite one another in the school play (�Fame,� I�m gonna live forever).

We had a stage kiss in the script.

Shell was a nice Baptist girl with awfully strict parents. Awfully strict. Her sister used to play up that angle, getting all coy and adorable when you�d press her to go out on a Friday night, or be your date to a dance. She couldn�t, of course. Neither of them could date or dance until they were 18. I really do think that while her sister was chomping at the bit to turn 18 and have all this freedom, Shell was just fine thankyouverymuch without having to worry about boys.

But I started falling harder and harder for the girl. Smart, pretty, talented, opinionated. I really got to liking her.

But she wouldn�t do the kiss in rehearsals. She wouldn�t let me anywhere close.

As we�re rapidly approaching opening night, the director sends us after rehearsal to the student director�s house nearby to work on that scene in private. Shell reluctantly agrees. Of course, she brings along a friend for moral support.

The director just wants to run that scene. The first time we get to the kiss, Shell freaks out a little bit and backs away, nearly hyperventilating herself into shock. She calms down, and it�s take two.

I grab her gently at the waist and pull her in. Her eyes are closed and she�s obviously bracing herself against whatever horrors are about to ensue. When our lips finally touch, I could feel her let go for just a second, but the waves of paranoia are just too much. She breaks the kiss and darts quickly out the side door and runs right out to her friends car, burying her head in her hands.

�What�d I do?� I�m shocked. It was uncomfortable, and certainly not spectacular, but it was just a stage kiss.

Her friend looks at me and replies, �she was worried about this because she had never kissed a boy before.�

Oh great, now I�m her first kiss.

That�s when the crush shattered to the ground. At 17, I could date a 16 year old virgin. Hell, I was a 17 year old virgin. I could even handle dating a girl that hadn�t kissed a guy but wanted to, even though we were taking things slowly.

But a girl that ran from the room crying because of a stage kiss? I felt just a little bit more pity than I did sympathy for her then.

From what I�ve heard, she grew up to be a minister. Not the celibate kind either. Good for her.

side note: I�ve always wondered if she tells people I was her first kiss, or cheapens the whole experience further by saying something like, �well, he doesn�t count because it was just a stage kiss.� I�m sorry Shell, lips to lips, boy to girl. That there�s a kiss.

[>>]posted at 3:37 PM by BG - click to email
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