Look At The Stars... Why?
It's a Sunday night and there was band practise after church. Any other week I'd be beaming like a 100 Watt lightbulb due to having spent a couple of hours in the company of an amazingly beautiful, not to mention talented girl. In fact in many ways, the same girl has had the same effect on me for years.
It all started in 1993. I was twelve years old and she was eleven. She'd moved up from Sunday School into the Bible Class that us bigger kids went to. In some kind of psychotically pathetic way I can still remember what she was wearing the first time I really noticed her. I believed in love at first sight but I was fat and ginger and astutely aware that those were not traits desired in a man by pretty blonde girls. So I sat quietly in the back corner of the room and wondered what it would be like to have a girl like that as a girlfriend.
We went to different schools and so Sunday mornings was the only time I got to see her. I didn't miss a week of church for about three years! A little further down the line we ended up at the same grammar school. Obviously we'd both grown up and she was more beautiful than ever. She dated other guys and I tried everything to win her over. I went back to church. She was a singer so I offered to play keyboards and guitar. She liked rugby players so I worked my ass off to make the team playing alongside current Irish international Rory Best. One of the other guys on the team told me once after practise that she went down easy in the back of a car and called her "blowjob Anna". My fist ended up covered in blood from his face.
I resigned myself to the fact that she would never be interested in me and so in true soap opera style I tried dating a couple of her friends. In true soap opera style it ended in disaster. Eventually we both moved up to Belfast to university. I missed the geeky value of turning up early for maths class so I would see her coming out of the class before. The only time I saw her was the occasional brief encounter in the Mandela Hall or Spring And Airbrake where it was a real case of beauty and the beast. The good-looking blonde and the scruffy drunk. A sort of George and Alex Best... only I couldn't play football and neither of us were famous outside our own imaginations. Now we're both back in Portadown and I have regained that childish eleven year old boy infatuation. Ah well, I give it a few months... "I can't take my mind off you, 'til I find somebody new."
Today's entry was brought to you in association with The Wonder Years.
It all started in 1993. I was twelve years old and she was eleven. She'd moved up from Sunday School into the Bible Class that us bigger kids went to. In some kind of psychotically pathetic way I can still remember what she was wearing the first time I really noticed her. I believed in love at first sight but I was fat and ginger and astutely aware that those were not traits desired in a man by pretty blonde girls. So I sat quietly in the back corner of the room and wondered what it would be like to have a girl like that as a girlfriend.
We went to different schools and so Sunday mornings was the only time I got to see her. I didn't miss a week of church for about three years! A little further down the line we ended up at the same grammar school. Obviously we'd both grown up and she was more beautiful than ever. She dated other guys and I tried everything to win her over. I went back to church. She was a singer so I offered to play keyboards and guitar. She liked rugby players so I worked my ass off to make the team playing alongside current Irish international Rory Best. One of the other guys on the team told me once after practise that she went down easy in the back of a car and called her "blowjob Anna". My fist ended up covered in blood from his face.
I resigned myself to the fact that she would never be interested in me and so in true soap opera style I tried dating a couple of her friends. In true soap opera style it ended in disaster. Eventually we both moved up to Belfast to university. I missed the geeky value of turning up early for maths class so I would see her coming out of the class before. The only time I saw her was the occasional brief encounter in the Mandela Hall or Spring And Airbrake where it was a real case of beauty and the beast. The good-looking blonde and the scruffy drunk. A sort of George and Alex Best... only I couldn't play football and neither of us were famous outside our own imaginations. Now we're both back in Portadown and I have regained that childish eleven year old boy infatuation. Ah well, I give it a few months... "I can't take my mind off you, 'til I find somebody new."
Today's entry was brought to you in association with The Wonder Years.