Thursday, March 1, 2012

2

love story pt.1
The next day, a note at recess. “Look in the mailbox.” Another present. This continued for days, each present getting more and more extravagant. Soon the mailbox wasn’t big enough, and the gifts were then set underneath it with only a note in the actual box. Until finally my mom called his parents to return some very large decorations and flower arrangements “borrowed” from his dad’s company.

I wasn’t one to love attention, and hated the teasing I got from my family about the whole thing.

I decided not to write back in an attempt to show the gifts had to stop. But then he showed up at my house, a baby bird in a brand new cage with my name literally on it. We named him Bilbo. Then went on a trip and forgot he needed to eat all those days we were gone. He died. I felt horrible. So horrible. I didn’t want to tell Garrett, but he somehow found out and then showed up with his own pet cockateil he was known to walk around with on his shoulder. I refused, but he insisted. I have always been bad at saying no. Particularly to him. And so, we added a cockateil to the number of birds already at hour house.

“I can’t date until I am 16” I remember saying. “What about going out?” “I think that counts. I can’t do it.” It was too much, too fast, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was, afterall, about 9 years old. I remember playing outside one day when I heard the click of our back gate. It could only be him. I immediately hid under a bush and remained there until I knew he had gone, unable to believe I really was doing that.

And then Aaron entered the situation. The two of them were good friends, Aaron my age and Garrett a year older. One day at school, I got a note as usual. But this time there was a tiny machine gun drawn on the cover. I opened it up to see different handwriting and a much wordier message. Aaron? LOVE, Aaron Griffith?

Soon the two of them began trekking up through the backyard together. They would tease each other about who I liked more. But even I could tell, at that age, Aaron’s was a momentary infatuation, Garrett’s was something else entirely.

* * *
sweetly since
January and school began. I was sure he’d left on a mission. Or even if he was still in Logan, the chances of running into him among the thousands was slim. I concluded my little infatuation with this boy I’d never met and never would again was rather silly.

Then I saw him from behind--his strangely familiar walk that I was embarrased to so quickly identify. He was here! I turned and went to class, where I tried to listen and feel what I was hearing was anywhere near as important as my discovery. 

I remember walking home on icy sidewalks, thinking. I should not be feeling this way. I have my best friend on a mission, who I really do love and in every way seems my destined future, planning to come home and marry me. Yes my feelings about that situation were confusing. Love was definitely there, but along with it a feeling I wasn't entirely right for him. I promised to date but had concluded I didn’t like it and wouldn’t find anyone that fit me, leading me to also conclude these little feelings I wasn't right for him were just nervousness. Since he was so obviously right for me. Then there was this new boy. I had never thought about someone so much whom I had never met. I am not your "typical" girl, and am probably not his type. I never act this way about boys.

More days passed without a sighting. But still the knowledge he was there warmed me for some reason, which continued to confuse me. Why these feelings? And what was I to do about them? I felt both numb and eager at the same time.

Then one sunny day, there he was, coming through the door. And there I was, opening my mouth and talking to him. Me. Talking to him.  A normal Tuesday morning, on my way to Chinese government and politics, and I was having a conversation with him. 

Me: “Hi.” 
Him: “Hey”  
He looked as surprised as I felt that I had said something, and smiled.
Now what?

Me: “Hey, did you go to Skyline?” 
He had seemed familiar, so it was the only logical question 
Him: “Yeah. You did too, right?” 
Me: “Yeah. I did. You looked familiar. What’s your name?” 
Him. “Dorius*. And you’re Brinn, right?”  

What? He knew my name?!

I saw his two friends whom I knew, also from Skyline, not far behind him. They squoze through the doors (which we were blocking but didn't really care), said hello, and kept on walking. I’m not sure what we talked about next, or what I had intended to, but I really did have to be on time to class, and so after a few short minutes, we said goodbye. I was thrilled. I had done something so completely out of character. I had talked to this mystery boy. Shy little me. I climbed the carpeted stairs to class, heart pumping, breath quick, and realized like a bucket of cold water there had been no number exchange, no talk of meeting up, no anything. Yes I had said something. But it may well have been the last something I ever said to him. I had no way of ever finding him again.

* Not, in fact, his real name. And therefore not what he in actuality said that day.

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