(no subject)
morganaus' post today set me to thinking.
I will confess I haven't much experience with dating. I was married after just turning nineteen, so the hunt, for me, was short. Through my early to mid teens, there were several girls I chased, though not with fervor. I'd be surprised if some even noticed me. My focus was elsewhere: work, playing baseball, football, or hockey. I think the first time I was truly stricken was when I was seventeen. Jennifer. We had been friends for a few years already, when, suddenly I realized she was a very attractive girl. Call me slow, heh. I became obsessed with her eventually, and it was obvious to everyone around me. It was then she began to distance herself, although I was too naive to see that then. Ultimately, She Just Wasn't All That Into Me*. I was probably too blinded by my feelings for her, my mind clouded with hormones, to see all the signs telling me it was time to let go and move on. Instead, I hung on and allowed myself to slide deeper into the abyss I was unknowingly preparing for myself.
Maybe she came to the realization that subtle hints weren't going to make me go away. Her words one night left no room for misinterpretation. She was explicit, if not outright rude. I was devastated. To this day, with everything I have experienced in my life, I can honestly say I have never felt so deflated and utterly worthless. I didn't sleep for days, and nothing seemed to have purpose. I had always been shy and quiet, but I sank after that and became more withdrawn than ever. Instead of understanding that Jennifer's harsh rejection wasn't because I was defective, or realizing there isn't anything wrong with not being the fire in someone's furnace, I heaped every reason upon myself. By the time I was finished, no part of me had avoided the shredder.
Back in the day, our hangout was Skateland, the local roller rink. Despite the fact that was where Jennifer destroyed me, I continued to go there every weekend. Before, I would ask girls to skate with me during couple skates, now I'd sulk in the arcade, drenched in my undesirability. A few girls asked me to skate. I'd turn them down or sometimes trudge along with them, hanging my head in silence for the duration of the skate. In hindsight, I can think of two who were probably rather interested in me. I don't know if I just didn't see the signs then, or if I was too self-absorbed in my own pity party. I remember one of the girls very well; we had been friends since childhood. While I can picture the other plain as can be in my mind, I couldn't tell you her name to save my life.
Time has a way of slowing to a crawl when you allow yourself to sink into depression, which is exactly what I'd done. Even now, it seems like months, but it couldn't have been but a few weeks before I noticed a few new faces at the rink. All evening, I tried to muster up enough courage to ask one of them to skate with me. It all seems so ridiculous now, how monumental a simple question was then. So instead of wandering over and asking, I wasted away each couple skate by playing air hockey with my buddy Joe. By the end of the night, our games had become enormously competitive and gathered quite a crowd. Cheers went up each time Joe or I would score; everyone in the place was aware of us, even if not interested in our little tournament. It ended when there were two couple skates remaining, and the crowd dispersed. I think I won, because my confidence (seems to me now) had gotten a boost. I can't say I won with any certainty, however.
At any rate, something gave me enough nerve to slink over to a group of three girls, two of which were the new faces I'd noticed earlier. The other was Suzie, whom I'd known for a few years. I asked Nancy, the girl who'd really caught my eye, to skate with me. She quickly said no. That destroyed any confidence I had regained when the third girl, Holly, said she would skate with me. She felt sorry for me, I could see it in her face and hear it in her words. I skated with her, though I felt as if she had gone with me out of some sort of sympathy. As we skated, she asked questions in an effort to get to know me, but all I had in me were one word answers. I asked Holly to skate again for the last couple skate, but she turned me down. I interpreted that to mean her sympathy had run out, but I learned later that Suzie had told both girls to avoid me. Apparently she made me out to be a dangerous crotch hound or something. To this day, I have no idea why. Suzie and I had always gotten along before, and I never did or said anything inappropriate around her.
That was early summer of 1984. Maybe a month later, I learned my neighbor was seriously dating a girl from Windber. He and I had been best friends since I was two. I'm pretty sure he was engaged to Laura at that point, because he would bring her to his parents' house nearly every evening. I'd often ride along with them when he took her home. Not wanting to go into a stranger's house, I'd stay in the car while he took her inside. After a few times, they insisted I go inside with them; Laura's sister wanted to see me. I begrudgingly agreed. It was Holly! She sat extremely close to me as we talked in her parents' living room. It was then I learned of Suzie's little scheme against me, and that Holly had wished she'd skated with me the second time at Skateland. Even as oblivious as I was, she left me with the impression she was interested in me. On the way home, all I heard from my neighbor was how she was all over me, so there is your proof I was indeed oblivious.
By this time, it was autumn. To test my theory that Holly might be interested, I asked her to go ice skating with me, and she accepted. The regular gang from Skateland did not ice skate, so it was just the two of us. Holly must have had a sense that I was clueless, because from that moment forward, she left no question about her interest in me. Our second date was spent in my dad's car, parked outside the rink. We never made it inside. No, we didn't get it on, either, but what we did was her doing, every step of the way. She did the chasing, and every first step we took was initiated by her. I often wonder if I wouldn't have drifted away if she hadn't been so aggressive. After October 17, 1984, I never dated anyone else. I had just turned eighteen. On March 1, 1986, we were married.
Nancy, the girl I'd originally asked to skate with me, is my sister-in-law. She sometimes comments on how she regrets not skating with me that night. She is still every bit as beautiful as she was that night, but I know now I would not want things to have worked out any differently. My neighbor and best friend while growing up, is my brother-in-law. It still seems strange to me how things ended up.
We rushed into getting married. The more people told us we were too young and not ready, the more determined we became. I can't really say I had any doubts on the big day, but I do remember asking myself briefly if I was hurrying because she was the only girl who was ever interested and that I'd better not miss the only opportunity I may ever have. I dismissed that thought rather quickly. I was too immature and naive to even consider that I might be making a wrong choice. The thought never came to mind. Ah, the arrogance of youth.
I had a high school English teacher say once that his wife was more beautiful than when he met her, and he knew that she'd be even more so tomorrow. At the time I thought he was a crazy old geezer. Now I know what he meant. I wish I could say we knew what we were doing in getting married, flying against unanimous advice to the contrary. I just happen to be extremely fortunate. She is more wonderful than I could have ever conceived at nineteen, and our marriage has been nothing short of storybook. Seriously. And the irony isn't lost on me - the irony that one of the stupidest decisions I ever made in my life turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Every day she is more beautiful than the day before, and I know tomorrow she will be even more so.
My wife took me out of the dating world before I really got started. I never had much opportunity to experience it, and in that sense, I am probably still as naive as I was at seventeen. No regrets, mind, but I wonder if my weakness in dealing with rejection is still there. I wonder if the same shy, insecure kid lies under the cover of nineteen years of marriage. And I can't help but think I'd probably still be a bachelor if Holly hadn't been so assertive. I now understand that Jennifer didn't crush me; I allowed my own insecurity and weaknesses to crush me. I permitted my own dark thoughts and negativity to consume me. When Holly came along, I was lower than I can express in words, even today. I might have attempted suicide, had I not been too chicken. Ha! I was too afraid to take the easy way out! How funny is that!
You see, I doubt I had the strength morganaus has had to impose personal growth upon myself as she has done, to gain the insight she has to deal with the world, with life, making each step of the journey a tool for molding a better future for herself. I wonder why I had all of that handed to me while people of infinitely greater character must forge their own happiness and success.
*Credit to Mary. These are words I read in her journal that sent me spiraling down memory lane.
I will confess I haven't much experience with dating. I was married after just turning nineteen, so the hunt, for me, was short. Through my early to mid teens, there were several girls I chased, though not with fervor. I'd be surprised if some even noticed me. My focus was elsewhere: work, playing baseball, football, or hockey. I think the first time I was truly stricken was when I was seventeen. Jennifer. We had been friends for a few years already, when, suddenly I realized she was a very attractive girl. Call me slow, heh. I became obsessed with her eventually, and it was obvious to everyone around me. It was then she began to distance herself, although I was too naive to see that then. Ultimately, She Just Wasn't All That Into Me*. I was probably too blinded by my feelings for her, my mind clouded with hormones, to see all the signs telling me it was time to let go and move on. Instead, I hung on and allowed myself to slide deeper into the abyss I was unknowingly preparing for myself.
Maybe she came to the realization that subtle hints weren't going to make me go away. Her words one night left no room for misinterpretation. She was explicit, if not outright rude. I was devastated. To this day, with everything I have experienced in my life, I can honestly say I have never felt so deflated and utterly worthless. I didn't sleep for days, and nothing seemed to have purpose. I had always been shy and quiet, but I sank after that and became more withdrawn than ever. Instead of understanding that Jennifer's harsh rejection wasn't because I was defective, or realizing there isn't anything wrong with not being the fire in someone's furnace, I heaped every reason upon myself. By the time I was finished, no part of me had avoided the shredder.
Back in the day, our hangout was Skateland, the local roller rink. Despite the fact that was where Jennifer destroyed me, I continued to go there every weekend. Before, I would ask girls to skate with me during couple skates, now I'd sulk in the arcade, drenched in my undesirability. A few girls asked me to skate. I'd turn them down or sometimes trudge along with them, hanging my head in silence for the duration of the skate. In hindsight, I can think of two who were probably rather interested in me. I don't know if I just didn't see the signs then, or if I was too self-absorbed in my own pity party. I remember one of the girls very well; we had been friends since childhood. While I can picture the other plain as can be in my mind, I couldn't tell you her name to save my life.
Time has a way of slowing to a crawl when you allow yourself to sink into depression, which is exactly what I'd done. Even now, it seems like months, but it couldn't have been but a few weeks before I noticed a few new faces at the rink. All evening, I tried to muster up enough courage to ask one of them to skate with me. It all seems so ridiculous now, how monumental a simple question was then. So instead of wandering over and asking, I wasted away each couple skate by playing air hockey with my buddy Joe. By the end of the night, our games had become enormously competitive and gathered quite a crowd. Cheers went up each time Joe or I would score; everyone in the place was aware of us, even if not interested in our little tournament. It ended when there were two couple skates remaining, and the crowd dispersed. I think I won, because my confidence (seems to me now) had gotten a boost. I can't say I won with any certainty, however.
At any rate, something gave me enough nerve to slink over to a group of three girls, two of which were the new faces I'd noticed earlier. The other was Suzie, whom I'd known for a few years. I asked Nancy, the girl who'd really caught my eye, to skate with me. She quickly said no. That destroyed any confidence I had regained when the third girl, Holly, said she would skate with me. She felt sorry for me, I could see it in her face and hear it in her words. I skated with her, though I felt as if she had gone with me out of some sort of sympathy. As we skated, she asked questions in an effort to get to know me, but all I had in me were one word answers. I asked Holly to skate again for the last couple skate, but she turned me down. I interpreted that to mean her sympathy had run out, but I learned later that Suzie had told both girls to avoid me. Apparently she made me out to be a dangerous crotch hound or something. To this day, I have no idea why. Suzie and I had always gotten along before, and I never did or said anything inappropriate around her.
That was early summer of 1984. Maybe a month later, I learned my neighbor was seriously dating a girl from Windber. He and I had been best friends since I was two. I'm pretty sure he was engaged to Laura at that point, because he would bring her to his parents' house nearly every evening. I'd often ride along with them when he took her home. Not wanting to go into a stranger's house, I'd stay in the car while he took her inside. After a few times, they insisted I go inside with them; Laura's sister wanted to see me. I begrudgingly agreed. It was Holly! She sat extremely close to me as we talked in her parents' living room. It was then I learned of Suzie's little scheme against me, and that Holly had wished she'd skated with me the second time at Skateland. Even as oblivious as I was, she left me with the impression she was interested in me. On the way home, all I heard from my neighbor was how she was all over me, so there is your proof I was indeed oblivious.
By this time, it was autumn. To test my theory that Holly might be interested, I asked her to go ice skating with me, and she accepted. The regular gang from Skateland did not ice skate, so it was just the two of us. Holly must have had a sense that I was clueless, because from that moment forward, she left no question about her interest in me. Our second date was spent in my dad's car, parked outside the rink. We never made it inside. No, we didn't get it on, either, but what we did was her doing, every step of the way. She did the chasing, and every first step we took was initiated by her. I often wonder if I wouldn't have drifted away if she hadn't been so aggressive. After October 17, 1984, I never dated anyone else. I had just turned eighteen. On March 1, 1986, we were married.
Nancy, the girl I'd originally asked to skate with me, is my sister-in-law. She sometimes comments on how she regrets not skating with me that night. She is still every bit as beautiful as she was that night, but I know now I would not want things to have worked out any differently. My neighbor and best friend while growing up, is my brother-in-law. It still seems strange to me how things ended up.
We rushed into getting married. The more people told us we were too young and not ready, the more determined we became. I can't really say I had any doubts on the big day, but I do remember asking myself briefly if I was hurrying because she was the only girl who was ever interested and that I'd better not miss the only opportunity I may ever have. I dismissed that thought rather quickly. I was too immature and naive to even consider that I might be making a wrong choice. The thought never came to mind. Ah, the arrogance of youth.
I had a high school English teacher say once that his wife was more beautiful than when he met her, and he knew that she'd be even more so tomorrow. At the time I thought he was a crazy old geezer. Now I know what he meant. I wish I could say we knew what we were doing in getting married, flying against unanimous advice to the contrary. I just happen to be extremely fortunate. She is more wonderful than I could have ever conceived at nineteen, and our marriage has been nothing short of storybook. Seriously. And the irony isn't lost on me - the irony that one of the stupidest decisions I ever made in my life turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Every day she is more beautiful than the day before, and I know tomorrow she will be even more so.
My wife took me out of the dating world before I really got started. I never had much opportunity to experience it, and in that sense, I am probably still as naive as I was at seventeen. No regrets, mind, but I wonder if my weakness in dealing with rejection is still there. I wonder if the same shy, insecure kid lies under the cover of nineteen years of marriage. And I can't help but think I'd probably still be a bachelor if Holly hadn't been so assertive. I now understand that Jennifer didn't crush me; I allowed my own insecurity and weaknesses to crush me. I permitted my own dark thoughts and negativity to consume me. When Holly came along, I was lower than I can express in words, even today. I might have attempted suicide, had I not been too chicken. Ha! I was too afraid to take the easy way out! How funny is that!
You see, I doubt I had the strength morganaus has had to impose personal growth upon myself as she has done, to gain the insight she has to deal with the world, with life, making each step of the journey a tool for molding a better future for herself. I wonder why I had all of that handed to me while people of infinitely greater character must forge their own happiness and success.
*Credit to Mary. These are words I read in her journal that sent me spiraling down memory lane.