story 2 of 52
8th Grade
Whatever love is I felt it when I saw her. Inside I felt all those chemical reactions that we all equate with love, affection. At that moment I knew I wanted her. I was fourteen. It was eighth grade. I had just moved from Massachusetts to Pittsburgh, from a public school to a private one.
In the past I had fallen in what I called like-an adolescent form of lust plus the fact that she would talk to me-with most of the girls who were my friends. But when I saw her it was something different that arose within me, something more primal and real, an estuary where lust and intense like mixed and formed into that so called love.
She had curly hair, and both her eyes and locks were a deep brown. Glasses framed her eyes and rested on her small ears.
When she laughed, her pink lips oscillated, and her voice shrieked. When she smiled, her pink lips became a curved brushstroke. When she spoke, her pink lips opened slightly and closed, and I always watched and listened closely.
I met her in the hallway on the way to lunch. We were introduced by a person I had met beforehand that was friends with her; later, I would learn that person was her boyfriend. Now he just seemed like an angel for introducing me to this girl.
She said her name was Amelia. I told her mine, and we talked a bit, connected on our likes-books like The Golden Compass and Enders Game. At lunch, she ate from a soft superman lunchbox. She had a chicken sandwich, which I would soon learn was her favorite meal. Midway through lunch, in the middle of a conversation, laughing incredibly hard, a large of chicken flew out of her mouth and hit me in the chest.
I looked down. The chicken had left a spot on my shirt. It lay on the lunch table. I burst out laughing.
Later in the year, we were both doing stage crew for the middle school musical. During the performances, when we weren’t moving objects in between scenes, we sat backstage with each other. I used to write in my journal during those times. Once, she stole the journal and started reading.
In it I had written who I liked, but I was smart about it, knew what could happen. I had used only two initials.
Apparently she knew her initials. Plus, in the back, for posterity (I was self obsessed even in eighth grade), I had written what the initials stood for.
Since she didn’t like me that way I went onto other girls, dated them, lost them because of my neurosis.
9th Grade
Our friendship grew as we did. Most of the year was spent simply being friends, hanging out. Once, during the middle of the year, I told I liked her. We were at my house. She just let it go.
I spent ninth grade with a girl who used me for sexual acts, and one who, now, I don’t think even liked me at all. One left me after a week. Another told me after two weeks that she had too much schoolwork to have a relationship. And another just fleetingly said it was over after two weeks and left, not giving an explanation.
At one point in that year, she came over to watch movies, and I told her I liked her. She covered her head with a blanket and pretended to not be there. I just fell deeper
10th grade
The worst school year of my life as of yet began with a girlfriend who made me tell her I loved her but didn’t love me back. She broke up with me the day of exams after a three month long awkward relationship.
I didn’t cry though. I hadn’t really loved her. I still loved Amelia as I had since I moved, but I knew nothing would come of it. At least I thought that until mid-year when her and her longtime boyfriend broke up. Thus began the worst month of my life-April 2006.
They broke up. I was friends with both of them, and the guy told me that she would end up dating me: she liked me, we baked together, and most of our time was spent with each other. Amelia was not in on this hypothesis, as I found out in April.
At a battle of the bands concert, which I went to with her thinking that this was it-I would tell her that I loved her now, I saw her talking to this kid who went to our school, who was a grade lower than us. His name was Taylor. He had screaming blonde hair, and, by my estimation, a much more attractive face than mine. While they talked, she touched his hand for a moment. I broke down. Tears raged on my face that watched their desire for each other from across the hall.
She saw me and came over, tried to calm me down. We sat down on some steps and talked-me wiping my face of tears that would not stop falling and her trying not to look me in the eyes.
I thought this was just going to happen, I told her. We were meant to be together, I told her. This was supposed to happen, I told her. Why the fuck did you go and do that, I implored her.
She sat stoically next to me, keeping her distance, and told me that this might happen, but not today-another time maybe, under other circumstances.
I cried out why not here, now, today.
She said it wasn’t the right time, and left.
I cried some more and got up.
A week or so later, at ten or eleven o’clock at night, she called my house and said she was outside. I came out, and she was there with two other people. She talked to me about everything and said we wouldn’t be dating. Another person then came out and told me to take it slow; girls don’t just date after shit like this. He was a junior. They then left. She called me again right after trying to say something, but the other people made her hang up.
We didn’t talk for a long time after that. We didn’t try to avoid each other, but we did. Each of us thought the other wasn’t talking to them. After a month, this subsided, and we slowly began to chat again. I tried even to get her to date Taylor and to get Taylor to date her, but it didn’t work out.
The Summer Between 11th and 12th grade
After I went to a film program and had some fuck buddies, neither of whom I fucked, I came back home and spent most of the rest of the summer with Amelia.
Right when I got back actually I went and saw a horrible movie just to be with her, to see her again.
Over the summer we baked; saw the movie Rent, which is a musical we both have adored since eighth grade (she introduced me to it), at a special showing where Anthony Rapp, who played Mark, the character I identify the most with, spoke afterwards (during the entire movie I stared at her and her mouth, which spoke every line and sang every lyric loudly with the rest of the crowd. I knew I still loved her. I knew I couldn’t have her, and that to again try and have her would be disastrous to our friendship); and watched a lot of movies at my house.
At some point we saw Little Miss Sunshine with a bunch of friends. That movie stands out because something different happened while we watched it. I laid on her shoulder. We practically snuggled.
A few nights later, near the end of summer, I couldn’t bear loving her any longer. I went practically insane and wrote on chest in Sharpy, “I am a blank canvas. Throw your emotions at my door.” Eventually, later that night, I called her and told her everything-how I loved her dearly and totally and how I so did not want to be telling I did because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.
Then something happened.
She told me she felt the same way.
11th grade
The high school moved into a new building in 11th grade and all the students had an orientation for that building. It was the day after I told Amelia I had a crush on her, and she said the same about me.
During the entire orientation, which lasted all day, she said nothing to me except “I don’t know what to say to you.”
I knew something needed to be done; I texted her that I needed to talk to her but not about this. We awkwardly spoke.
Two days later we hung out. She ended up at my house, in my room. She walked in and said “Since John Mayor is dating Jessica Simpson, you can be my boyfriend.” The rest of the day was spent anticipating our first kiss. We stayed up in my room close to each other, almost kissing, almost meeting at the mouth, at the place we had spoken to each other through for so long under different conditions, at the place that took on such new meaning now.
After three or so hours of anticipation, she bent forward and slowly kissed me.
We’re in 12th grade now, and we’ve been together since then. There have been troubles. There have been difficulties and worries and tears, many tears. But the vast majority of the time we are smiling, kissing, and loving each other. Finally we are loving each other.