2006: Adam
Adam approached me when he returned from the trip with such nervous tension built between us that it’s a wonder one of us didn’t explode right then. For a brief moment I expected him to blurt out his secret passions, desires, and possible love for me, to tell me he knew what I was feeling (a crush) and couldn’t bear to “wonder” any longer, that he had to know right then and there whether it were possible for us to be together. He had to know if we could try a relationship based in friendship and understanding, rather than a relationship based in a physical desire. It would be opposite Romeo and Juliet; we would not meet in a room full of rivals, the only two characters with a hope for future peace, and he would not be instantly attracted to me based on the shape of my lips, and I based on the look in his eyes. We’d not have a dramatic love affair based on the perception that pretty people are better matches. Instead, he’d approach me as a long time friend, who at first didn’t think of me in that way but who now has realized his love for me. He’d say something about how he never noticed it before and couldn’t imagine why, but I was his perfect mate based on my personality and the way we mend together.
We’d be expected.
But when he approached me he didn’t reveal his yearning for me. Instead, he told me about his long-distance girlfriend.
My heart sank immediately, the blow containing the force of 10,000 wildebeests running from an enemy. Just as the weaker animals are caught and tortured by sharp teeth and painful paws, and torn to shreds by ravenous carnivores, so did I not feel an ounce of freedom. When I got home I cried, knowing Ang was right (don’t tell her I said that), that this boy stole my heart and didn’t even know it. I kept having the oddest thoughts - Why would his little brother tell me he liked me? Or rather, how could his little brother have such an idea, especially since presumably he would know about Adam’s girlfriend? I’d remember moments we had, online and in person, things that seemed so big at the time but seem so small and insignificant now. Once he told me he’d show me the world some day, and that I wouldn’t like it. I asked if he’d protect me from the bad, and he gave me that half-grin he always gives me, the smile that says “of course, you know I would.” When he’d take my hand and hold it for a few minutes while he talked excitedly about a concert that was coming up or a movie that was coming out. I guess I was the only one of us two who felt that tingle down my spine. I guess he’s just a physical talker, you know, like those people who always have to touch you or wave their hands when they say things. It was the hours alone with him, talking and staring and giggling shyly that got me, and now I can see that I’ve made a fool of myself thinking he would ever consider someone like me as a girlfriend.
He mentioned it so casually as if it was something I already knew, “I spent some time with my girlfriend, so, you know, the trip was pretty awesome.” I thought he was going to see family and would come back with the pain I felt, having missed me just as much if not more than I missed him. She’s a year older than him and when she smiles, he says, she brings the sun down to Earth. They’ve been dating for over a year and his parents expect them to spend lives together. It’s as though their union is ordained by God, or at least that is how he talks about it.
I held my breath and listened, trying to show that of course I didn’t have any feelings past friendship for him, that any action in that direction made previously was only made because of an inclination to flirt with the opposite sex, not with him personally, and certainly not because he was dear to me. Behind my smile was not the heat of the sun or the beauty of the moon; rather, behind my smile was the pain of a broken heart.
I can’t even remember when I fell for him and at the moment, I can’t remember why. He seemed so different from other guys, so sweet and careful, but ready to take on the world.
He was gentle with me, and respectful, and nice to my friends and interested in drama club. When he got back from the trip, he was ambitious and rude and didn’t want to invest his time in a “petty play thing” knowing he was going to eventually go back to her anyway.
Am I a “petty plaything?” Or was he talking about the play itself?
