July 10th 2016

I find myself catching feelings for a man.

And boy has it been a while.

My first crush was a boy named Mitchell Goroway from my Kindergarten class. Don’t ask me what I liked about him, I wouldn’t know. I can tell you what I didn’t like. Watching him that one dreadful day, pick his nose and eat it.

It was that day I made a discovery: Boys are gross.

Then it was of to 6th grade. Agustin Alvarez. His eyes were hazel and he moved to New Jersey from Spain. Little did my lovelorn self know, he wasn’t worth it. The tears that punk kid caused were not worth it.

My 7th grade year, my older brother started high school. That’s when I met him. Eric Veith, the love of my life. His face was beautiful, his cheekbones sharp enough to slice my hand. Freckles that lit up his face and hair as black as a midnight sky. I actually gathered the courage to ask him to coffee. Sadly, loving the idea of someone isn’t the same as loving them.

I hold him in a high regard though. Eric taught me a valuable lesson about courage. The one piece of advice I have for anyone? If you like someone, go up to them and ask them on a date. Ask them for a phone number or their name. Or simply say, “Hey. I think you’re hot.” then walk away. **

In May of this year, I began flirting with one of my regular customers. A college exchange student from France named Hugo. I thoughtfully scribbled my cell on the bottom of his receipt and never heard from him again. I saw him though, with his model status girlfriend. However all was not in vain. I met a fellow co-worker earlier that month and I was keeping him updated on the “cute French guy”. I liked telling stories and he liked listening. When I informed him Hugo so kindly blew me off, he retorted “Well, if you gave me your number, I know I’d text you back.” I joked, “Well, how about you give me yours and we can do that?”

Two days later, he did and we have been.

Since then, he has been my daily texting buddy since his birthday, June 3rd. I’ve been growing fonder and fonder of him every day. I guess the point of my recollection of past loves is to segue to what I think about him.

Teddy Bear. Would I want to allow myself to fall in love with him? Would I fall in love with him or the idea of him? Am I ready to face the potential heartbreak of having to let him go? Or would we last, get married, and have a family together? I’m 17 years of age. Do I understand what love is yet?


** I do that a lot. Sometimes I’ll get an awkward chuckle. Sometimes I’ll get a “What’s your name?”.  It works.


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