Sep 04, 2009 23:14
Lately I’ve been thinking about people I’ve met through time. You know, old school friends, teachers I hated, -that now I think they were saints compared to my new professors- crushes. That kind of things and people.
I wish I could see my first crush again. He was named Carlos, he had shaggy jet black hair, big sad brown eyes under bold eyebrows. I loved those eyebrows to death. He looked like a much younger version of Joe Jonas, only that he didn’t talk much. Long story short, I made a Valentine’s day card, that was supposed to be put along with hundred of others, in an anonymous form. It wasn’t. Instead, they only took about 10 or less, all from our same class, for everyone to see. The thing is, there was only one without name, and claiming love to Carlos. Yes, that day I died inside a little. But I died more, when I left that school only a month after. My little brother’s teacher was a devil, in all the sense of the world, my mom took my brother out of the school, and it made sense to her that I left too, since she didn’t want to see that teacher or anybody from the school again. I wasn’t going against her wishes. It seems like I might be writing a novel, but it was a really rainy day. I didn’t put attention to the teachers and I laughed at their faces, I hit a boy in his face several times in the middle of the same class, I cut more than half the classes, I absolutely destroyed my backpack, throwing it down the stairs. I even told my blonde backstabbing friend what I thought about her. And all those was pretty rebel-like, since it was a Catholic School.
But I never said goodbye to him. Well, really, I never said even ‘hi’. I was so tall, so big in 7th grade. He was so short for me, so simple and solitary. I got out of those doors with my rubbish backpack in my hand, not bothering to look back. The rest was hell. New in school, which was a weird Bilingual/Home-schooling thing...horrible being the new girl starting there in the middle of the semester.
But the most horrible thing, the thing that made that hell in earth...remembering him. That time I didn’t knew id I liked boys, I was a complete disaster with blue eye shadow and all. He was just so gorgeous, so beautiful. Yeah, he was too short for me, but what the heck!
Really, I knew I never could have anything with him, so I kept my mouth shut and my eyes far from his, and all is good.
The most amazing thing is that time really cures everything. And with a little dose of Music from certain Spanish group named after what Van Gogh lost -or maybe gave as a gift to a prostitute, according to the story- my heart was better in about a year and a half.
I knew, I was sure I’ve never see him again, and I was right. I forgot him. Kind of. Well, he’s still shining quietly in my mind, making my heart shudder when I write this. I think it’s because I wasted a lot of time in my adolescence crying in the shower for him, missing him. And my mind and body are but yeah...looks like I’ve forgotten him. I hope.
crush,
complicated,
past things,
carlos