If Time Could Stand Still
by Emma C.
Now, I am 17 years old and I found him again. This is my story; I will warn you that this is not a syrupy-sweet memoir to melt your hearts. The ending isn't tragic, but it certainly didn't make me feel all gooey and romantic inside. I just don't know how else to express myself except to write it all out so that I might not forget. So that maybe I can reflect and learn this time around, stop making the mistakes I've repeated over & over since those times. I was 9 years old. Yes, 9 years old is young to be falling in puppy love, but try telling that to a 9 year old girl. My feelings were unshakable at the time, as the memories are now. I can't forget it. The one thing that I can't remember is exactly how he entered my life. 4th grade was a bit of a blur; my memories run together and nothing makes sense, save a few scenes that cement my thoughts of that time. I remember that my best friend was Katrina. I remember that the girl I disliked the most was named Madison. I remember his name, but for my purposes, I think I'll initial him 'A'. I'm almost sure that he enrolled at my school from the beginning of the year; I do not think he was a transfer student. As for describing him, I could go on and on, but I'll only spare a few sentences towards this purpose. He had dark blonde, curly hair and there was always a smile on his face. I admired him for that. My parents had just decided on a divorce before that year, and I remember not wanting to make any impression at all, on anyone. That meant keeping quiet, and even after those few years, I stayed silent towards my peers. Even now I'm like that. Seeing him smile, seeing him laugh... it made me happy inside, even if just a little bit. Everybody else just thought he was a jerk; and it was true, he had so many times disappointed me with his carelessness towards the feelings of other people, not to mention me. But now I realize that it's selfish for a little girl to expect anything more from a little boy than the actions and words of a little boy. At my school, we were divided into grade level classrooms represented by animals. They were called 'clans', and A & I belonged to the 'cougar' clan. That meant that every hour of class time, we were together in the same classroom, which made me happy. Although I liked him from the start, we never spent time together. Never. It was just something that I wasn't good at. I know for a fact that I was a lot bolder at 9 years old than I am now. I'm sure that I barged my way into talking to him plenty of times. And maybe I scared him; maybe he shyed away from me because I was too different, or because it was weird for a little girl to want to be close to a little boy that badly. Maybe I was just plain annoying. I'll never know. There was one time when I actually got to speak to him. At our school, we had what we called 'little buddies'. It was where your class visited a kindergarten class and you got to pick a kindergartner to be your 'buddy', and you would read with them and play games with them. Because A & I were in the same class, of course we would go to the same kindergarten class for buddies. And so somehow we got to talking. I don't remember what we talked about, or how well-received I was when I talked to him, but I remember feeling accomplished. Like I had achieved something important that I should be proud of. Of course, immediately afterward he ran off to play with the other little boys, but that didn't do anything to diminish the joy that I felt. But just as I began to become comfortable with peers again, a small but echoing event caused me to toughen right back up. There was a boy named Malik in my class. Before the incident, I didn't think much of him either way, but afterward I hated what he'd done. I was running back towards the classroom after our morning recess break. I used to love to run. I didn't know I looked stupid when I did it, just that it felt good. And then--- I felt myself trip over something... a shoe, a foot, and then I was on the ground, a face-first landing. I scraped my hands, a knee. It wouldn't have been so bad, except I looked up and there was Malik and some friends, laughing at me. They didn't try to help me up. They didn't apologize, they didn't ignore it. They sat there and laughed at me. I felt so stupid. I felt betrayed that no one else cared enough to help me; after all, Katrina was absent and no one else was friendly with me. I was ashamed, I didn't want to show my face in front of these people again. How can a person be so cruel at such a young age? But do you know what I did? I stiffened that upper lip. I forced myself not to let a single tear tough my cheek and I stood up and I brushed myself off, and I walked right past them into the classroom with my chin up. Even though I wanted to cry. Even though I wanted to tell my teacher. Even though what I really wanted to do was beat them up. I didn't trust the boys by then. And then I didn't trust the girls except for Katrina. I'm not sure how Madison found out about my little crush, but we were all down at the large field down the hill from our classroom, playing on the jungle gym when she let it slip to him. She abruptly told me that she would tell him, and promptly ran over to him and told. So I did the only thing that a dumb-ass 9 year old would do to somehow try and escape the situation: I ran like hell. And, to my surprise, that girl and her friends actually GAVE FRIGGIN CHASE. So I ran and ran and ran until recess was finally over and they couldn't chase me any more. But after that, I couldn't even glance at A. He might have teased me about it; I honestly don't know. I remember that I tried to ignore him, that I tried to claim that I had never liked him in the first place. Looking back on everything, it was childish. The last trip we did that year was a trip to Cape Disappointment, near Long Beach, WA. We slept in yurts, and I remember sitting there, playing Apples to Apples and listening to the other girls diss on A. I remember thinking 'why do we have to talk about it?' as they asked me all about my feelings. They told me he was a jerk and I was better off without any feelings for him, and it was true, at least partially. I was better off without feelings for him. But I was a stupid, impulsive 9 year old. What was I supposed to feel? He didn't come back for 5th grade. I don't remember there ever being a goodbye, or any sort of acknowledgment of his leaving. All I remember is that it felt empty to me when the Cougar Clan split up before 5th grade, leaving me in the Eagle Clan. And then, one day as I was walking down the hall with my newly checked-out library books in hand, having not thought of him for months, I saw him for the last time. I was so startled that I dropped my books, and had to drop on all fours to grab them off the floor. 'Hi' For a second it didn't register, as I looked up at him. Puzzled. And then I realized that he was talking to me. He had never directed ANYTHING at me, as far as I could remember. All I could muster was a quick, smile less nod and then he was gone, walking right along with his mother, and a sibling. And then I thought I'd forgotten him. I hadn't once thought of him since 5th grade; my life has been incredibly busy for the loser I am. But Facebook has a funny way of biting you in the ass sometimes. I often wonder if I should just delete it already; it's not doing me many favors. One day, he just showed up in 'people I might know' by some sick, random coincidence. Even though we have only 1 friend in common. Just one. And before I knew what the hell I was doing, I friended him on Facebook. He accepted a day later, and that's when I found out that I was just barely too late. He had just begun dating a girl a few days before I found him again. I feel pitiful. I feel a little sick. You like a person, and that feeling stays imprinted on your heart, sometimes more vividly than some old friendships. Love really bit me in the ass this time; I can't think of much else these days. Seeing my former peers happy is good, but it makes me wonder why I haven't found MY slice of the happiness pie. Why MY life isn't sweet and dandy. And you know what? I realized something today, ...that you can't count on things working themselves out. That you can't sit there praying that that hot guy you've been ogling will walk over and talk to you. If you want the job done right, do it yourself. |