Close Encounters of the Male Kind
Excerpt from Chapter Two
“The Crush”
How I wish I could forget my early days of high school. How I wish I could forget the one person that could pierce my heart with just a single glance in my direction. One glance would hold me over for weeks, and to this day, I remember exactly what I was wearing the one time he told me I looked nice. I sincerely hope I am not the only delusional soul that has had an experience like this in their younger years, especially since I’m putting it out here for the world to see. In the event that I am the only delusional soul with this ‘issue’ – well, the one psychiatrist that is reading…this is where you can step in.
I had a brief encounter with this man in my early teen years. He was popular. I was not. He was adorable. I was not. He was cruel at times, and I was not. His shoes were always so white, piercing eyes, broad shoulders, a button nose if I ever really saw one, and the most incredible bubble butt I have ever seen on a man’s figure. I really don’t know what magnetic force field propelled me to this man, time and time again…but it did. I have witnessed him being cruel, unkind, selfish, inconsiderate, and masterfully manipulative; yet I still pined for him. Why is this? I made it to second base with this guy and we never talked after that. I got grounded for nearly three weeks for that little escapade (the punishment was worth every minute).
Low and behold, out of the blue, over twelve years later…he contacts me…on Myspace; Myspace. To those of us who first design a page, a delight. To those of us who move on to a more productive means of networking, perhaps face to face communications…just a small stepping stone. To those of us where Myspace serves as a link between you and your biggest crush ever…the best advancement in internet technology since dial up jumped to broadband.
First, it started as catching up. Then, we moved onto instant messaging. Then the texting began. Next thing you know, I’m hanging out with him at the local watering hole. He dragged me out to the parking lot to listen to his latest and greatest mix. I remember being really impressed by his liking for Stevie Wonder. We Have So Much in Common! Blinded by the crush-o-meter with this man, I neglected to consider the number of Stevie Wonder fans in the world. I neglected to consider the fact that the man was a twenty five Grammy award winner or that he had produced nearly two hundred number one hits. Who the f* doesn’t like Stevie Wonder? He handed me a best of best mix, that I still listen to today. I neglected to consider the other twelve girls posting, “Thanks so much for your mix, I love it and listen to it every day!” (Probably while they’re pooping!)
The last encounter I had with him, I vowed to never involve myself with him again. There were so many brief moments where this inner person would peep out and say or do something so genuine, so sweet and thoughtful. So out of character, and I think it was this that kept me going back. I think it was the commonality we shared at that point in our lives. I think this commonality we shared provided us both brief glimpses of comfort. I’ve always known deep down that if I had ever had the opportunity to be with this person, that I most likely wouldn’t be interested. I’m not walking blind. I know exactly what sits in front of me. How you say? Wash, rinse, and repeat. What sits in front of me is not going to measure up to my ‘crush’ – and no one will because seventy five percent of this ‘idea’ was a complete fabrication stemming from hot horny teenage dreams - not even close to the harsh reality I had received over, and over, and over again while pining for this guy. I’m not even his type (thankfully so), and as painful as it is for me to say this aloud, I really don’t think that he’s mine.
This is what I mean about realization. I have a hard time not being over-skeptical – but people…you have to be a little skeptical. Look at the reality of the situation. The reality of my situation with this guy is that we were both lonely. It is that simple. Now you go and be simple. Don’t let illusions or false expectations support a disappointment. It took me a long time to realize this…but I’m happy with the outcome. After all is said and done…he will always be a friend (even if the guy has made me feel like crap, several times warmed over).
I digress...it was me making myself feel like crap several times warmed over. I did this by not feeling confident and by letting stupid trivial things overwhelm my judgment. I am smart. I am beautiful. I am talented. I am funny, successful, ambitious, caring, devoted, and a wonderful mother. If you’ve been in the field for as long as I have, you will come to find that there aren’t many people that can measure up to all of that. So, back to approaching this from a different angle; no longer will I be, “Bitter, party of one!” Que Sera, Sera...whatever will be will be. I do know one thing for certain...if someone isn't treating you with equal respect, they aren't worth your time. There are plenty more fish in the sea, and it is so sad...so very, very, sad...that most of them are liable to be chapters in this book.
