"I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say." -Flannery O'Connor
In my tongue-and-cheek high school days, I sometimes called myself the "relationship professional... in a strictly observational capacity."
Because I thought I'd seen it all. I saw my friend trying to keep all these guys happy. She was asked to the Homecoming Dance three times, so it must have worked. But it was also a lot of unnecessary stress and bother.
I knew I didn't want to be like that.
I had another friend who was basically cornered into a relationship. He pretty much professed undying love via text and asked her to be his girlfriend. She'd never had a boyfriend so she figured, why not?
Their "relationship" lasted 3 days. And the funny thing is that they were both in my biology class, and if she hadn't told me, I never would have known that anything had happened between them.
I knew I didn't want that. I don't want a relationship just because of its novelty. I don't want the guilt of possibly breaking someone's heart just because I wanted to "try it out." I don't want something that only exists in the winky-faced short-handed messages of the internet and texting worlds.
Another friend had a major crush. We shipped it. And waited. We thought he was flirting. It turns out that he was in a long-standing relationship with a girl who was.... not great. She tried not to show it, but I know my friend was devastated.
I didn't want that to happen to me.
So I settled deeper into the sidelines, and waited for the right moment to jump into the game.
the game.
the game the game the game.
It is a bit like a game, isn't it?
I wasn't there when they explained the rules, and everyone was kind of in the middle already so I said, that's cool, I'll just jump in next round.
But the game never really ends.
I still don't know the rules, though I've been watching my whole life trying to figure it out.
Suddenly I realize.
I started playing a long time ago.
And not just that....
it's my turn.
People are watching and waiting for me to make my move.
And I'm absolutely paralyzed.
I've had a Facebook since I was 13 and a half.
But I've never set my "relationship status."
I thought of changing it to "single" when I turned 16, but decided against it.
I planned on setting it to "single" once I came up to college, but... forgot. I guess it wasn't important to me.
Now I'm almost afraid to change it.
The older I get, the more I appreciate the wisdom of my youth. For lots of different reasons.
I was happy waiting and staying out of the game.
But something changed. I grew up, and I grew tired. I was just a little bit jealous.
Oh
White Crayon, be careful what you wish for. Wishes may bring problems, such that you regret them. Better that, though, than to never get them.
... but is it really?
I'm not boy crazy. Never have been. I've only ever had... two? crushes in my life. Only one that really counts. And that went... absolutely nowhere. It was more like, Hey, I realize that you are a quality individual, and that we have several similar characteristics. I wish you would ask me out.
And I went to his mission farewell, and that is it.
I've only been on a handful of dates. But most of them were fairly enjoyable.
Aria had to walk me through dating etiquette when I was lined up with an RM over Christmas break. Did you enjoy the date? Then you have to text him a 'thank you.' Not right now, but sometime tomorrow.
And it worked for her, so.... (Though apparently, the guy I was lined up with got engaged a week later...)
I came in late to Mission Prep the other day and telepathically communicated with Marissa, before grabbing a seat in the isle against the wall. I happened to sit next to Brad Wilcox's (my teacher, be jealous) son David, who is, by the way, gorgeous. We exchanged some small talk after class, while I was waiting for Marissa, then parted ways. Marissa was sitting next to a friend from her stake, whose roommate, in the brief moments between when I walked into class and when I sat down, thought that I was attractive. They toyed with the idea of setting us up before Marissa's friend chickened out.
Honestly, I was pretty taken aback. I think I'm pretty. Sometimes I even try. Other people have told me that I look good, but they are usually parents, girls, or old people. But a boy my age told his friend, who told my friend, who told me that he thought I was attractive. It just seems so foreign.
When I went to EFY two summers ago, I wondered if I was anyone's COW (Crush Of the Week). It was just some absent-minded musing, really, and I dismissed the idea as highly unlikely.
And then some kid I barely knew (not even in my company) told me I sang like an angel and asked me to the Mormon prom in his stake, 800 miles away.
I have the highest opinion of myself. I think I'm pretty great.
When someone else agrees, it really surprises me. Especially if that person isn't a relative, friend, or roommate with a special obligation to like me.
"Take chances! Make Mistakes!"
"I don't know how to waltz, but I'm willing to learn."
Oh, Mrs. Frizzle and my past self... I don't know if I can follow that advice.
Alayna, you've got to give the poor kid something!
But what?
What am I supposed to do?
I don't want to fake my own feelings
or hurt his.
I don't want to do anything.
I was a relationship professional... in a strictly observational capacity. But now my eyes have gotten hazy and nothing is clear.
Things are up close and personal.
Off of the sidelines and into the game.
(Out of the frying pan and into the fire.)
