School with him is rough. He sometimes talks to the blue eyed chocolate hair girls, but I know he doesn’t like them. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. I don’t think he would. He’s too smart. They aren’t the kind of girls that would even ever want him. They just play with him when they’re bored. People know who he is, they’ve heard of him, but he isn’t known by anyone else besides our grade. He’s easy to play with.
When I’m about to go on vacation I plan out my last day at school very carefully. If it’s an A day, I won’t see him. If it’s a B day, I will. My last day before this vacation just happened to be an A day and considering that it will be about a week since I would see him again, I decided I needed to make sure to get a glance one last time. Lunch was over and I knew he was about to walk from Physics to Math. I’m not creepy and I don’t know his whole schedule, just these two classes because the walk from Physics to Math is the only time I can see him during this particular schedule. I waited patiently, looking where he always stood in the commons and waiting to see his tall self, walking through the crowd.
  He’s 6’1” and it isn’t creepy that I know that because, we are friends, friends tell that kind of stuff to each other. Being 6’1” means that he can be seen easily in a crowd full of stunted teenagers with their heads hung low and their hearts hung lower. The rest of his body matches up well with his height. He isn’t skinny and he isn’t muscly. His veins are clearly seen on his hands and slowly disappear the further you travel up his arms. His shoulders are strong and square, if he stands up straight, and his back has the littlest back dimples towards the bottom. The whole back dimples thing isn’t creepy because he has a tendency to lift his shirt up in places that he feels comfortable and apparently he is comfortable around me. I simply noticed them, and then quietly freaked out about them.
As I looked around the room of zombified teenagers thinking about how excited they were to get out of the prison they were stuck in for at least another 6 months, I noticed his hat of hair, that looked as if it was plopped on his head by God last minute and with little thought before he was thrown down to earth, rocking back and forth amidst a group of boys. Fae was dragging me down the hall because the bell had already rung and she wanted me to walk her to Spanish. I followed her as slow as possible while looking backwards and weaving in and out of the rest of the high school as they were forcing me down the language hall. I made a quick eye contact with him that we both tried to lock for longer than a second by going on our tippy toes. Unfortunately we were interrupted by the whirlwind of Hispanic couples fused at the mouth and biding their farewells to their beloved partner as they parted ways to head to class. 
I didn’t see him the rest of the day. My dad did see him at the post office right before we left for the long drive, but that doesn’t count. On the drive I contemplated what happened today. This day that we both fought to keep the eye contact. It was so new and had never happened before. I drank my orange juice to cut the car sickness and thought and thought. Did it even happen? Was I just hallucinating? By this time, I wasn’t having flashbacks, it was just a memory. I had no picture in my brain, I could only remember that it happened . . . if it did happen.

All I really wanted to do was stay in bed. I love dancing and all, but I was exhausted. Fae got me out of bed and we went to the party. I knew there was a chance he would be there. I just thought about the possibility of seeing him. That’s all I thought about all night long. I thought about seeing him and him whisking me away and him being my end to my old year and my beginning to my new year. And then I woke up, slapped myself in the face for thinking such things, and threw myself into the pit of sweat and drunken high school seniors and college freshmen in the middle of the dance floor. My thoughts of him were gone and my hair was whipping. The lights were flashing and the music blasting and the people buzzing. When the lack of air finally got to my brain and made me realize that I should take a break, I stepped out of the black hole barely surviving and gasping for real air that hadn’t already been breathed before.
My thoughts caught up with me and I realized that I couldn’t dance them away forever. I texted him. Why the heck did I text him? I don’t know, but I did and I nearly puked my guts out in the time period between after I hit send and all the way until a whole 5 minutes after I read his response. I felt a shiver down my spine as I stood up to find him. He was sitting by the bathrooms and I had to almost drag him out of there. He wasn’t having fun, just watching all of his college friends dancing with “their girls” and making out with strangers. I was done with waiting for him to make all of the moves. So, with unrealistic thoughts in my mind and disproportional alignments between reality and my dreams, I grabbed his hand, pulled him up, and took him outside. My plans were not to kiss him, just to get out of that place full of people who only liked me because they whole heartedly believed that God created my butt just for them to grab it. I really didn’t go into this hoping for it to end in a kiss or to have him confess his love for me.
We walked and talked and laughed. It wasn’t at all awkward. Remember that we are friends so it wasn’t weird that it felt natural. Our houses are only blocks away from the intoxicated building full of stoned teenagers and oblivious parents trying to keep it under control. I don’t remember at all what we talked about, just that we talked and just that he kept looking at his phone. Only for seconds at a time and not long enough to communicate that he was done with our conversation. It was freezing cold being that it is December, but I had a coat and so did he. So there was no good excuse for me to use the “I’m cold” line and expect him to give me his jacket. That would be insanely stupid and while I do most things labeled insane, I do try to stay away from things that are stupid.
Conversation flowed, our walking slowed, and my favorite song played in my head, a sure sign that this was a memory to be branded into my brain. I have no recollection of what we talked about, but that’s usually how it happens. I’m so in the moment that I don’t do anything to preserve it. It is a blissful wonder that I long to escape to when I’m not with him. I don’t have pictures to look at or texts to read back because when I’m with him, I’m with him, and I think about nothing else than being there, with him. I do remember asking him what his favorite song was as I grabbed the pole of the stop sign near the edge of the road that broke off into my direction and his. He claimed that he didn’t have one. I bugged and bugged and tried to convince him that he did. Every time I told him that he was hiding it he told me that he wasn’t and walked closer to the pole. Soon he grabbed it and told me he would think about it. We walked around the sign together holding the pole and continuing our conversation. I realized then that this night is the beginning, we are finally, considering each other friends, and nothing is better. This night, was the night that I will give credit to in the end because this tonight he finally decided that he did want me. Tonight.
I let go of the pole and sat down in the little bits of snow that covered the sad, dead grass. I straightened my legs and slowly dropped my head down to touch the murderously cold snow. I watched him above me talking and walking around and around in circles. I smiled to myself and hoped and prayed that after tonight, things would be different. Maybe he would talk to me instead of just looking at me until I caught him. I wanted him to know that it was okay to like me. He finally stopped twirling and whirling long enough to realize that I was making snow angels. The snow was barely two inches deep and very disappointing for this time of the year, but still very cold and seeping through my jeans. I sat up, reached my hand up towards him, and told him to help me. He did and I brushed the snow from my legs and much desired “booty” until I realized just how close I was to him. I looked up and saw him looking down. We were sharing air, he breathed in my last breath and I breathed in his, somehow, against all scientific rules, it happened. We both smiled and started to giggle. I noticed the ten thousand smile lines hugging his mouth and the dimples forming around his eyes. He brushed snow out of my hair.
I yelled to him that he better find his favorite song as we were walking away. He yelled back that he didn’t have one and walked down past the baseball fields and the middle school.

I’m all for women empowerment and this whole “feminism” thing, but I don’t think that any of those involve not liking boys. I think that as women we get so much attention when the word “perfect” is used to describe beauty. But what about the boys? They have pressure to be perfect and they have girls that they want to impress. They are all incredible. I mean sure there are the tools and the mean boys, they aren’t good. But the rest of them survive all of the pressure of being macho and somehow along the way, become themselves. Their pressure to “be a man” is never looked at, not as much as the pressure to be the “perfect lady,” but this pressure is just as important and just as necessary to realize. Oh gosh they all rock. And I just really hope that they find love. A good, strong, powerful love with a beautiful woman that makes them wonder why they spent so much time trying to impress the blue eyed chocolate hair girl in high school. I just really hope they do. 

At times, when I am with them, my friends, I have these “mom moments” where I look at them and think about how thankful I am for them, and how I would do anything for them, and how much they have changed me into who I am today. It happens when they are laughing or ranting or doing their homework. I look at them and I think about how proud I am to know them and to be their friend. I had this moment today. We were walking. When I looked at him I realized just how remarkable he is, as a human being. He caught me smiling and asked me why I was so happy. I brushed it off like I was just having a good day, which I was.
I got in his car and he started driving. We pulled into a 7-11 at the edge of town just to talk. No one was there, no one ever is unless they are giving away free Slurpee’s. We started talking about our day and school until I went inside to get a drink. He came in with me and we continued our conversation. We have been hanging out for months by now and we really are getting close. I am starting to love him, love him just the way I love Fae. The way he turns up the music so loud that I can’t hear him singing. The way he has random spurts of confidence which usually end in making a fool of himself. He is starting to love me. I can see it in his hands and I can feel it when his laugh touches my skin. However, as to not mess up the gentle balance of what is and what is to come, I will not rush things. I must trust that one day, things will all add up and our souls will dance.
After it got dark we pulled out of the parking lot onto the not so busy small town main street and headed towards my house. After the whole ride in silence, he cleared his throat when he pulled into my driveway. He looked at me and confessed. He told me that I was his best friend. My mind was racing for the picture perfect response.  He’s mine too, I spend so much time with him and I’ve told him everything. So I said that. I told him that the feelings were mutual and I smiled a wide valley smile surrounded by joyous mountain cheeks as I left his car.

Our relationship, unlike anyone else’s, is ours to hold, experience, and decipher. I see couples doing normal couple things and it makes me gag. I don’t want that. We aren’t that, our love is not that, not even close. Throughout this crazy ride and this crazy love or whatever you call it, that I’m not riding on the want to be like the movies, this is real and almost too raw and confusing and I have been giving it my all, hoping and praying that things would work.
Yesterday is when it all went down. The day that it all changed, the day that whatever we were was cleared up. What did I want? What did he want? We decided what we would be, yesterday.
When he picked me up I was normal. We had fallen into a routine. We were friends. We had begun to realize this fact a while ago so now it was just typical. We told each other stuff and we knew each other, it’s strange this day didn’t happen earlier considering how well we knew each other. You know, you can usually tell when you have a connection right off the bat. We eased into things. We acted oblivious to the obvious fact that something was going on between us, something that wasn’t just friends. Oblivious until yesterday.
He came up to my house and knocked on my door. I opened it ready to go. Having never really had a best friend, mine and Fae’s relationship was something different, I don’t exactly know what best friends do. I’d assume they talk about boys and sleep at each other’s houses all the time and are best friends with each other’s parents. We have never done that. Our routine is driving around. We have never been into the mountains, not since the first time. I guess he doesn’t like leaving town. He really loves our town and high school and the people that I’ve never really tried to get to know.
It isn’t a personal thing that I don’t know many people at my school. I keep my circle small and that’s just how it happened. I don’t have a bit of resentment towards anyone and it’s easy to stay out of the drama. I’m not going to miss high school since I haven’t really done anything worth missing and I don’t exactly wish every day that I could just get out already. I live a rather content life and I like it that way.
As we were driving he told me to stop talking and just listen. He pushed some buttons and slid a tape into his older than us car. The smirk on his face showed that he knew I’d have a flashback to that December night. As soon as the notes started to dance he pulled into an old Catholic church parking lot and told me to get out. I stepped out of the ancient beast and started walking towards his side of the car. He met me in the middle and grabbed my hand spinning me close to his chest. My breath was stolen as he whisked me off my feet and spun me to the tune of the words being sung and the instruments played. We took careful, small steps to the soft simple beat and listened to the words being cried. I looked into his eyes, my most favorite thing. I felt my face morph into new shapes, new smiles, new face crinkles. I felt my heart sway from side to side along with us. My hand was a sweaty mess on his shoulder and our hands clasped together created something unimaginable. His hand pressed on my back made a permanent impression.
The music started to slow and my mind started to race. After the escape that it had just run to it didn’t know what to do next. An otherworldly experience such as this should come with a guide as to what to do after. Here we were, dancing by ourselves in a church parking lot, a church that we didn’t even go to, two best friends knowing nothing about life or why life was the way it was. Knowing only that they were together and no one was watching. Knowing nothing about what the other person wanted, needed, ached for. So far away from anything else that ever was, so far away from any other love.
The music was nearly gone when he cleared his throat and looked at me with quivering eyes. I didn’t know what was about to happen. I wasn’t ready. He pulled away from me and sat on the hood of his car. The song had ended and by now, the only sound we could hear was the faint car engine and the roaring thoughts racing between our eyes. I smiled and he looked down. I sat down next to him and waited patiently for him to say what he was longing to get out. We sat there inhaling the blissful moment. My mind wasn’t racing or even trying to think of what was about to happen next. All I thought about was where I was then. He sat up straight and I knew he was ready to say the thoughts pressed into his brain for so long. 
“You like me.”
“Yes I do, but you like me too.”
“Well, yes I like you.”
The long pause in between “I” and “like” showed that he didn’t want to break my heart. He wanted me to get the hint and move on, never asking him to answer a question like that again.
“You don’t love me.”

 I collapsed onto my bedroom floor completely unable to hold it all in while letting out a relieving wail before any tears even had a chance to hit the ground, but once they did, once they were seeped up by the off white carpet, I was silent.
My bedroom is tainted with memories of him all over. With memories of what happened yesterday and memories of what happened before. All of my day dreaming, thinking, and screaming happened in this room and I needed to leave it all. So I did. When I woke up I clawed off the memories embedded in the dried tears on my face from last night and ran. I didn’t have any shoes on, that’s how I liked it. It reminded me of my childhood when I never wore shoes and would ride my tricycle up and down the hill that was in front of my house.
I was lost. I had walked and walked and forgot to leave a trail of bread crumbs to remember my path. My feet didn’t leave foot prints in the concrete no matter how heavy I felt. My body was at one with my soul. Lost. In this town that I had lived in for almost four years, since freshman year, I thought I knew it well. But I guess the mixture of the tears welled up in my eyes and not having any clue where I wanted to go, caused me to go the only direction I knew, forward. Eventually, forward meant past the familiar play grounds and restaurants into strange neighborhoods with houses full of laughter and smiles and hugs that I begged to be a part of.
The car that I got into was comfortable and recognizable. I could feel my body sink into its accustomed passenger seat. I looked out the windows that I had spent so much time looking through. I don’t know how I was found, but I was. When Fae told me who told her to come find me, I knew it. That was his last bit that he could give to me. Anything else would ruin his reputation or whatever it really was that was keeping him from me. Anything else would make the chocolate hair girl and all of her friends that only talk to him when there’s no one better, stop talking to him. So he gave me the safety that I had always longed for. I knew, in this moment, that he did care for me and that this was the last I would get of him. He didn’t have anything else to give, he had given it all. I guess his all and my all mean two different things.

I guess the chocolate hair girl got to his head. He was so afraid of losing the social life that he had spent his whole life building up. I don’t get why he cares so much about all of them, the girls that only enjoy playing with the newest toys, the newest boys. The boys that shout to girls about how they “look good today” referring to their bodies instead of their minds and hearts. All I can imagine now is that he saw who I was and just didn’t want to kiss it. He saw who I was, danced with who I was, but didn’t want to shout it to the world that he loved who I was.
I knew that all I had become to him was a “thing” and he would talk to his friends in the years to come and tell our story about the one time he had a “thing” with a girl like me. He would tell them about how we didn’t even kiss. He would tell them about how I regret almost everything until at least a day later when I realize that it never really was a big deal. He would tell them about how I could never use the hand dryers in bathrooms because I was so impatient. He would tell them about how I sometimes pretend to shower just so I can sing at the top of my lungs without being judged so harshly. He would tell them about how much I made him laugh. He would tell them and he would realize that he still loves me. Maybe then he will want me. Maybe then he will realize how good he had it. And maybe then, he will know what it feels like to have your heart broken by someone you didn’t know you needed to love.
That’s the thing, I knew from the get go that I needed to love him. I looked at him with different eyes, eyes that needed to love him instead of just notice how puberty has been slowly but surely blessing him. I needed to love him, I still love him, because I’m a firm believer in that love doesn’t just up and leave, not even when you try to kick it out. Its bags are unpacked, clothes hung up, and shampoo sitting in your shower. You can’t get rid of it, you can only learn from it. That is what I’ve done and what I will keep doing because if I can’t kick love out, I might as well learn to love it.

As I was walking out of the store, groceries in hand, I looked forward and saw someone holding the store door open. I called out to tell him to wait and he assured me that that was his plan the whole time. After I got my microscopic smirk off of my face and picked up my last bag, I walked through his door making sure to thank him before heading to my car. He followed me which after thinking it was creepy, turned out useful when one of the bags dropped and he had open hands to catch it. He helped me to load them into the back of my car and I got a nice good look at him once I shut the door. He was cute and looked like the nice, sweep you off your feet, type. His smile was warm and as familiar as the moon is to the sky. I peed a little when he asked me for my number. I gave it to him and realized that as cliché as this “love at first sight” was, maybe true love is like the movies. Maybe a movie kind of love can still be raw and real. Maybe the reason love doesn’t work out is because we try so hard to change it.