Valentine’s day!

It’s valentine’s day, ladies and gentlemen! And since I totally forgot to do the deconstruction it’s a holiday, let’s reminisce, shall we?
The morning show I listen to was talking about pathetic love stories and “Bearing a torch” for someone, so I figure that’d be a good topic. I want to hear everyone at their most pathetic, puppy-love, “pulling stupid stunts to impress someone” stage. Any good stories out there?

I’ve got two. The first was when I was in middle school; I developed a crush (not that I understood it fully) on the “smartest” guy in my grade, the “nerd”. I was convinced if he’d just notice me, he’d see we had a ton in common, and we’d become friends and then… and then… well that part wasn’t important, the important part was he had to notice me. I became almost obsessed with him noticing how smart I was. He used to read under a tree on the playground instead of playing with other kids; I brought a book and did the same. But of course, you don’t interrupt the sacred fellowship of man and book with mere words, so we never spoke. Not the best way to make an introduction.

Enter: Math class. Tests and worksheets were sorted in order of score, with the highest scorer on top, and the teacher would then read off names when handing them back until he got about halfway down the stack, at which point he’d shuffle them and hand them back silently. So everyone knew who got the highest scores but nobody knew who got the lowest. I figured that was perfect; if I could get my name read before his, he’d realize I was a rival, and we’d have this friendly competition thing going on, and I’d best him time and time again, and just like in the manga, things would get erotic, and… well… you know, he’d notice me. And it’d be awesome! Problem was, he got a perfect score. Every. Time. If I got a perfect score, the teacher was so used to putting him on top he’d read his name, then mine. I waited for the day when he’d slip up, just once, but I never managed to beat him. To this day I doubt he knew I liked him.

The second story was in high school. There was this girl, this tiny little Chinese girl; I don’t know what I did, but she stopped talking to me altogether. Completely ceased to acknowledge my presence. I suspect I did something too forward, or maybe her parents didn’t like me; she refused to tell me why she was upset with me. Meanwhile, I became downright obsessive. I was desperate to get her to talk to me, to acknowledge my existence, to admit that we had a deep, burning connection that could not be denied….

Did I mention I was barely out of the closet to myself? Total denial on my end.

The school was doing a musical, and I’d failed to be cast. She was traditionally the Props Mistress, in charge of making sure props get where they should be. I signed up to be crew, offering myself as an assistant, helping out with props.She managed to get me stuck in charge of this giant globe which really should have taken two people to roll out onto the stage, which didn’t give me much time to talk to her. They later cut the globe because the wheels kept getting stuck on some ropes from the previous scene, but she still didn’t acknowledge me.

The next play was a Shakespeare play in which I had a very minor role. She was appointed the Props Mistress, as she had been before, and we were short-staffed, so I hung out near the props table helping out where I could. She still didn’t acknowledge me, but I had a plan this time. I’d make her realize how special I was! I started altering sonnets, reciting them to her softly backstage. I pictured it perfectly: she’d look up with glittering tears in her eyes and admit that she only shunned me because she was scared of our perfect love…

She, of course, ignored me all the harder. I eventually gave up being a total creeper, resolving not to waste time on someone who didn’t want me ever again. Which totally worked until the next time I got dumped and became clingy and weepy and desperate, but I eventually sorted that out too. But anyway, the point is, don’t stalk people reciting sonnets, it’s creepy and never works.

Your turn! What ridiculous things did you do when you were too young to know better?

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One Response to Valentine’s day!

  1. Anonymous says:

    When I was 12, I used to call the girl I liked at 4:04pm every single day. It would have been creepy if I’d been a little older, I think. She was my only friend and I was really obsessed with her. She would talk to me amicably for about a half hour and then get off the phone. She had other friends than me, but she was my one and only. I was just coming out to myself at the time, and she was straight, so it wasn’t meant to be, but she was always very kind to me even if I did follow at her heels like a puppy all the time.

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