Romance, Shromance

I’m single.  Yeah, another big shock there, huh?  Thing is, unlike the social interaction thing, being single all my life is something that’s bothered me over the years. And before we even get into this, this isn’t about sex.  I know it’s an ugly truth, but hey; I’m a guy.  If it’s sexual gratification I’m after, I don’t need or necessarily even want assistance. I’ve never cared about sex, as even as a kid who barely understood a thing about social interaction, I knew that sex alone couldn’t sustain a relationship.  It always seemed to me … still seems to me, in fact, that a true romance would need to be based in friendship to have a chance to succeed.  Part of this came from my parents, still together after all these years and happy … with the occasional squabble here and there, but hey; friends don’t always get along either. 

I remember my first crush, a little girl named Leeanne Nyugen. Didn’t like me of course, and I don’t blame her. I was a little spaz (no insult intended; I probably would’ve been diagnosed with ADD, had people been more sensitive about such things at the time). It wasn’t until years later when I befriended a girl named Bridget Cunningham that I felt a genuine affection in me, an affection that grew over time. I carried her books for her, how often I can’t remember, but I do remember enjoying talking with her.  She always seemed to wait for me, too, and greeted me with a smile.

Then one day it clicked; I realized I liked her more than just a friend. I worried about what to tell her all day … but she wasn’t there.  It wasn’t until walking home with a mutual friend that I found out she had moved. 

It crushed me, in the way that only a lost love could crush the spirit of a teenager. It wasn’t until my senior year that I found someone else I liked. Mindy Reed, I believe it was; she was pretty and shy like me (er, the shy part, I mean), and she seemed nice enough to talk to. I made her a nice valentine (with a poem I found on a magic the gathering card. Shut up; it was an excerpt from Arabian Nights). For a time, it seemed great; I walked her to class on the rare occasions we met each other in the halls, and even mustered up the nerve to call her a few times. I probably annoyed the heck out of her, as I can’t imagine I had anything interesting to say, and the one story I was writing was, to put it bluntly, pretty damn bad. Still, she didn’t say so.  I tried to ask her out a few times, but something always seemed to come up; my stupid job ad McDonalds, friends we intended to double-date with cancelling, parents coming down on me because my sister was pregnant (don’t ask; I never understood it either, though I suspect they used me as an outlet for their anger and disappointment at her).  Eventually, she broke it off with me, but even then in a nice way.  I was still crushed, but I didn’t blame her.  I always wanted to apologize to her for just accepting it like that. I worry that she thought I just didn’t care.  I did; I still wanted to go out with her, to maybe have a relationship … but by that point, some part of me realized that I just didn’t know how.  Didn’t know how to date, to be a boyfriend … none of it.

There were one or two other girls, but looking back, I feel I was just on the verge of stalking them.  Not intentionally, of course; I still just didn’t understand the whole relationship thing.  It wasn’t until one of them passed a message to me about it that I realized my strange behavior.  I stopped immediately, of course; I never wanted to make anyone feel uncomfortable, and for that, I apologize to them as well: Stephanie Kelly and … er, the other girl whose name escapes me.

That was over a decade ago.  I still don’t understand relationships, and fear I’ll probably die alone in that regard.  I’m resigned to the fact that if there is a woman out there for me, she’ll probably make the first move and will ultimately lead me around by the nose. I’m fine with that, though; I’m a Dreamer, after all.  And if there is no one, if I am destined to die a single virgin, I can deal with that too. I’m not really alone, after all, not anymore.