He'd moved from the Bronx the previous year and his older brother was an actor who had just starred in a movie with Robert Deniro. No lie! It was a small part of a much bigger cast but he got enough screen time that when Nicholas said his brother was a movie star we believed him and then marveled at the scenes with fascination. In fact, everything he told us was in a way that made it very easy to like him. He was the youngest of four brothers who were much older, so while everyone was obsessed with Pokemon and yo-yo's he talked about Frank Sinatra and wrote screenplays in a composition notebook.
I thought I was in love with him, as much as a ten year old can be at that age. I wasn't nearly as obsessed with boys as the other girls in my grade but I'd seen enough movies and read enough books to crave love or at least affection. And I had chosen him. I wanted to love and be loved by him. And this feeling was precipitated by childish fulfillment's at that time. He was nice and funny and he used to share his lunch with me. Anytime there was a partnered activity we'd run to each other to claim ownership.One time I took a bite of a cookie and handed it to him to finish and when he did the whole class groaned in surprise because he ate something with my saliva on it which meant we loved each other and were practically married by standards of saliva swappage.
We became fast friends that first year and were inseparable during the 5th grade. He'd walk me home occasionally and during the summer he'd call to ask me about my week. I spent countless hours belting "Always Be My Baby" with this boy in mind. And when the Titanic came out that year, you bet your ass I knew every word to My Heart Will Go On. I wrote his name over and over again in my notebook, finding sentiment in each letter. I loved him or at least I thought I did but of course what I wanted and what happened never matched up.
The 6th grade rolled quickly around and I don't know what it is about Middle School but everyone literally loses their damn minds. Entering a new grade and school allows you in some weird way to reinvent yourself if you want and immediately the friends you had in Elementary school could become enemies. And that's exactly what happened. I was so excited to rejoin my group of friends on the first day of middle school, only to walk into this massive new building with a hundred new faces feeling like a complete and utter stranger. Everyone looked older, dressed differently and had an air of "maturity" about them. I did not have a growth spurt or develop breasts or even get my period. I was still stuck on my 5th grade shit that when Middle School rolled around everyone except my best friend Ahesha had abandoned me. Worst yet, Nicholas completely shunned me the first day of school and continued to do so the rest of the year.
When my mom told us we were moving at the end of the year, I was more elated than scared. 6th grade was tough and I was excited about a new town in a new state. I did well academically and even made a new group of friends but I was ready to start over. I was ready to leave this failed life behind and I was also ready to leave Nicholas. I was a pretty dramatic kid and moving was the escape i didn't know i craved more than love. On the last day of school, I penned him a love letter that my friend graciously delivered for me. It was my last attempt to salvage young love. I knew nothing would come of it, but I wanted to put everything on the line. He threw the letter in the garbage. He didn't even open it. I watched her hand him the letter in the cafeteria and then saw him turn his face up in disgust and trash the letter as quickly as he has trashed me.
Despite this obvious rejection, I still pinned for the boy years later as if it were anything more than a childish crush. The idea of him was so much more than who he actually was, that it made it easier to turn down affections from actual boys because "well, there's this guy in New York that I think is the "one". I didn't grow out of thinking that until at least 10th grade (and i'm being generous with myself because it was probably more like 12th) and I can't lie and say I didn't try to find him on MySpace when it first came out because i was way ahead of the internet creeping trend.
For reasons I have yet to uncover, I am most careless with my own heart. I have always been. I am an emotionally mature individual who gravitates towards emotionally and physically unavailable men. I spent the better part of my teens pinning for a boy I barely knew. I spent all of college, ignoring guys who wanted to date me in lieu of putting Art Boys and Music Boys on unreachable pedestals. I graduated from that to literally getting involved with a boy who was dating another girl and here I find myself again, trying to attach myself to a boy who doesn't care about me, who doesn't know how to care for me and who chooses time and time again to be careless with my heart.
In the pit of my stomach, I know there is no there there between Matt and I. Not in the way he looks at me or talks to me or treats me and yet I continue to cling to the idea of him while the reality keeps smacking me in the face.After everything he has said and done, you would think I would scoff at any more attempts to have this boy in my life. I do not always feel worthy of love, so i'll surround myself with individuals who cannot provide me with it. And i think this has more to do with my anxiety of not measuring up to people. I am petrified of letting people down, so I surround myself with people who will let me down. I have a tendency of wanting to prove that I belong and am worthy of love but only by people who do not deserve it. I am stubborn to a fault and while I don't want us to fit together anymore...I am frustrated that we don't. On paper this should have been a very easy coupling and the fact that is hasn't been confuses me to the point where I will be unkind to my heart to make a point.
As expected the trip to the zoo was a disaster. We both agreed to meet at the zoo separately after his failed attempt to get me to drive us there. He made a joke that since he was the "birthday boy" he was nominating me to be the driver for the day. I immediately shut this idea down on all fronts and told him i'd meet him at the zoo instead to make sure the point hit home.
We both were surprisingly on time and grabbed our respective zoo maps and decided what we wanted to see first. I was dressed pretty nicely for the trip and instead of complimenting me he told me he didn't understand why girls had to dress up every time they went someplace and that he prefers his woman to dress more for comfort than fashion. Of course the comment infuriated me and hours later when my feet were bleeding from walking so much, I resented his comment even more. We grab lunch at what can only be described as a Jurassic park themed restaurant along with hundreds of screaming kids and teens obviously on field trips. As Peacocks walked around freely accosting people for food. The lunch as going well enough until he had to tell me that he actually invited more people "but you were like the only one who showed up, so i guess that's okay"
By the end of the trip we were both more than happy to head home. It was a long ass day and there are only so many times you can oh and aww at adorable animals before the claustrophobia and leg cramps kick in.The ride home was a little awkward as he openly texted his ex-girlfriend during the trip. He was concerned that he had upset her by not including her in some plans he had this weekend. My feet hurt so much I couldn't even muster up the anger and annoyance at my current predicament. He was concerned that he had upset his ex gf's feeling (whose physical attributes are everything he has told me he loves in a woman. She is the girl whose standards he lives by) while hanging out with a girl whose feelings he was currently hurting.
When I finally reached my stop, I climbed over him (because he refused to stand up) and gave him the bday card and small notebook i hid from him the whole day (hoping by the time i'd given it to him we'd be at a better place) It was small gift and practically cost the slice of pizza but it was more than he deserved after everything. I limped home and then collapsed into bed with a mixture of regret and disappointment claiming the last bit of self respect I have. I think he texted me later to thank me for hanging out with him on his birthday but we haven't talked since and I am trying to be okay with this because as much as he offers me nothing, he reminds me daily that I offer him nothing in return.
I am not heartbroken or even sad. I am just disappointed, drearily so, and perplexed because of the wasted time. I am can only speak for myself but the way things sort of sputtered out is a let down of gigantic proportion. One minute he is telling me how sexually adventurous he is and how attentive he is to letting his lady friend "come first" and the next we are awkwardly trying to avoid touching each other at the zoo. We almost got separated by a hoard of children trying to push their way to see some adorable baby gorillas play. He held out his arm for me to grab and I clumsily caught his hand instead before he yanked his hand away quickly as if I had cooties.
And I get it, yes I could have been a little more assertive but he didn't make it easy with his constant assertions that "short women, women who like cats, women who have or have had short hair, women who want kids and women who aren't great at math" aren't his thing. The more and more he opened his mouth and expressed his opinion, the less inclined I was to even attempt undressing in front of this boy. It was as if he were making a point of "not being into me" despite the time we spent together., so I wasn't trying to make a bigger fool of myself.
But I am a fool. The last six months have been foolish and I have been careless with my own heart once again.
Le Sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment