#33.

ANECDOTES OF MEN WHOM I HAVE LOVED #1.0: 'D'

(i promised myself i would write them. just for the memories.)

here's the truth: i have never experienced love. i like to joke that my love life reached a climax at age twelve, plateaued while i was in high school, and is now heading towards the golden gates in the sky.

i am also a very hard person to love because i have very skewed perspectives of what it means to be loved, what it means to love, what love is, etc.

but i have liked someone.

not even, really liked him a lot. but i truly liked him. as in, i didn't care about all those shallow expectations--what he looked like, what he wore, what he liked, i just liked him, as a person; as my person. you know that backstreet boys' song? as long as you love me? yeah, that's kind of how i felt about this guy.

let's call him 'D'.

'D' and i first met when we were in grade seven. i didn't think he was anything special at first. he was short, nerdy, had glasses, freckles, and a large head. (we all made fun of him for it.) he was known for being obnoxious but hilarious, the kind of guy that you'd like to make fun of. but he was easy going, he liked rap music, which was a big thing in my middle school. we bonded over our similar love for eminem, 50 cent, and crass music, in general.

over the two years, we became really close friends. to the point where we talked to each other on the phone every night and shared deep secrets about ourselves. i counseled him, he comforted me; we were best friends. it was strictly all broship and goodness until feelings came in the way.

i don't even know how to describe it. it's like one day, i woke up, went to school, said hi, like usual. only, it wasn't usual. because he wasn't the same person from yesterday. (well, to me, anyway.) that day, he was just all sorts of wonderful and i think it's just the familiarity and the fact that i knew that i was special to him.

anyway, after a few months of wallowing in my newly found girly issues, i decided to confess.

so one day, while shopping for our friend's birthday present, i obtained a certain burst of courage. i stopped in the middle of the hall. because it was at that exact minute in which i knew that if i did not confess then and there, i would never ever do it. and then i might regret it.

i took a deep breath, steadied myself, and blurted out: "yo."

he turned to me, all confused and replied: "what's up?"

and then i take more deep breaths and kind of start pacing before i finally said: "you know how sam likes kevin?"

he gave me a confused look, as if to say "so what?"

and then i clenched my fists and uttered that phrase i wish i can take back, seven years in the future: "well, i like you."

and then his bright blue eyes just kind of widened behind his nerdy glasses and he was silent for a few seconds.

"i'm sorry. but, you remind me of my eight-year-old sister. and i don't want to ruin our wonderful friendship."

my heart didn't exactly break over these few phrases, but my ego definitely took a beating. when i think back to it, why would you say that somebody reminds you of a sibling four years younger than you are, while they are confessing their fervid admiration?! rude!

also, eight-year-old sister and wonderful friendship have no correlation whatsoever.

so whenever somebody tells me that i remind them of someone, i cringe because memories of this moment comes flooding back.

and that is the story of 'D'.

we didn't remain very good friends because it became really awkward. then we kind of had a huge throwdown over msn and in public, which ended our 'wonderful' friendship. and i think that he turned me off to all boys in general and i secretly suffer some sort of trauma born from this incident.

but when i think back to it, i am truly sure that i didn't like him very much. because i didn't even cry over him. not even one single tear.

and i thought this was a poignant story for me to tell because it's kind of funny and it's proof that i am capable of having real feelings for a member of the opposite sex. and it's possible for those feelings to be not revolved around fantasies and my basic narcissism, in which i project my image of perfection onto somebody and expect them to fulfill it.

but it's okay because i think i'm ready to like again.