Adagio for Strings, Op.11a

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I'm writing this because someday Boy might stumble across it and know exactly how i felt for so long. And because since i started writing this on Sunday night, it has been incredibly therapeutic.
I avoided writing it for years, because i didn't want to sound like some dumb 15 year old who says, "i love this boy" and then says the same thing a month later about a different specimen. It wasn't like that. even if it seemed that way, My feelings for him never went away. 

This is long. and sappy. and confusing. I don't expect anyone to actually read it, but here it is. I am sad that people ask me what I've done this summer and i have so little to tell them. The truth is that I've wasted it all. Watching Merlin, staying up way too late reading or painting or writing in my journal. anything to keep my mind occupied. .because i do NOT want to be sad. I mean, I am really sad, but i don't want to remember that I'm sad. I fake it and then some nights it all bursts out. in tears or in scribbles or fervent prayer.  I'm tired of being sad. and my brain is very, very ready to be past this. So this is me trying to get over it by finally letting it all out.

This is what I've never told anyone before, at least not all together like this. For this post we’ll just call him “boy” but sometimes I might call him “you”, I’m sure it will switch around. And this is all what I truly feel/felt about him, and it might not make sense. and if you’re looking for a peppy post, click away because this isn't it. This is me venting (in a probably unhealthy way) and moving on in the only way I know how.

I don't tell people about him, because I'm ashamed of my half of the story. and because it was so long ago that i feel pathetic for still having such strong feelings. People that knew me then never knew that it was such a big deal to me, so they don't know that it's a big deal now. I feel silly writing all of this down because it's going to make me seem like a little naive girl. OH. WELL. 

We absolutely 100% could have, and would have, worked.

And it’s my fault that we didn't  That’s what bothers me the most. Because we were the only thing I ever honestly dreamed for, but I ruined us.

This all started when I was really young, I don’t remember exactly when but somewhere between 2002 and 2004. And it was summer. I was swimming at Jayna Harford’s house and she told me that there was a new family in the ward with kids our age. I wasn't there on the Sunday you moved in because I was at a family reunion in Nevada. I saw you the next week, though. Boy did I see you. Half way across the room I knew your eyes were blue, they were that bright. You had mean freckles and shaggy blonde hair that fell straight down over your forehead. Your arms looked long, like you hadn't fully grown into your body yet. That day, I paired us up. I was like 8 years old, I had no idea what love meant, I didn't think about it like that. But I distinctly thought, “hmph. He and I could be together some day.” And just like that the seed was planted. An idea. And it never ever left me.

For the next few years we were acquaintances. I was way closer to your brother than I was to you, because he and I were the same age. we were a little older now. I was in 7^th grade, emotional, naive  twitterpaited by the most remote sign of affection. After some one’s baptism, all of us kids ran to the kitchen to get cookies. You made sure your sister got cookies and you carefully handed her a cup of milk once she had gotten situated on the stage. Then. That was it, I liked you. But so secretly! You were older, and ‘more mature’ and I was intimidated. But I noticed everything you did and said. Years later when I got a cell phone, I spent embarrassingly long amounts of time planning out the perfectly worded text messages to you. Like, “hey!” or, “what’s up?” I thought I was a GENIUS.

By the time I was in high school I had liked you for some time, paid close attention to you for a couple years, and I slowly (very slowly) realized that you had been paying attention to me too. My freshman year of high school we hit it off and became pretty good friends. You and I had fun where ever we went. Another year later, in July, we went to Oakland as a youth group to go to the temple. We all stayed at the house of one of the families in the group. It was the summer before I started sophomore year of high school and I liked you so much I thought I might burst. You still didn’t know. Well, I mean, you would have to have been blind not to see, but I hadn’t told you yet. It was an overnight trip. I was dying to tell you how I felt. Friday night, the whole group played capture the flag. We were on opposite teams. I was trying to sneak around the gazebo onto the other side of the house to steal the flag when I heard someone coming, so I crouched down in the shadows. The noises stopped, so I stood and cautiously took a few more steps. I didn’t see anyone so I kept walking, and I bumped right into you. I stammered, trying to say something, but so did you, so I didn’t feel as dumb. Finally, my nervousness turned to giggles and we both laughed. It was funnier because we were trying to be hushed. We were on opposite teams, so we were supposed to tag each other, sending both of us to ‘jail’ but you whispered, “how about…I let you go, and you let me go, and we don’t mention that we saw each other slip into the other person’s territory?” you lifted your eyebrow and cocked your head to the side. It was a full moon, and it was breezy, I was trying so hard not to make it obvious that all I wanted to do was stare at you. You smiled and raised your eyebrows as if to say, “well?” so I nodded, and we quickly scurried our separate ways, but my mind never went back to the game. It was completely preoccupied. I remember being really shy the next morning, like we had a secret. And we sat next to each other like usual but there was something tangibly different now. A buzz in the air between us. We talked and talked the whole car ride home and then that night in the middle of our attempted coy conversation I just blurted out that I liked you. That I had liked you for a long time. You seemed surprised, you said you felt the same. I could practically hear you smiling and it made me happy to know that finally, I had caught your attention. At church the next day I caught your eye and blushed so hard I thought my cheeks would fall off. You reminded me after church that you were leaving for your Chinese language camp the next morning. My heart sunk. You were gone for what seemed like forever, but we would text a lot and I tried really hard not to get my hopes up, because who knew what would happen when you came home? At some point during the summer we remembered that I wasn’t going to be 16 until may, and I wasn’t supposed to date before then. You wanted to respect that. We never said it out loud, but we desperately wanted May to come as soon as possible. And we wanted my first date to be with you. The Sunday you came back from camp, I vividly remember walking into the madera chapel with my brother. He and I were laughing about something as we walked in to take our seats. As I turned the corner into the chapel I caught your eye. You were seated on the stand, waiting for the meeting to start and you were laughing with our friend. You had gotten very tan at camp. It made your hair look even blonder, your eyes even bluer and your teeth even whiter. Your face froze, and then softened into a shy smile. Your freckles disappeared beneath the blush that was starting to spread over your cheeks. I felt my face get hot. My mouth twisted into small knot as I tried not to beam at you. I didn’t want my brother to see. All that happened in a split second, and then we looked away. I continued my conversation with Derek and you continued yours with our friend. I knew then that everything was going to be just the same, maybe even better, than it had been before you left.

My memories of you from September – April are like a dream now. Something way too good to have ever actually happened. It seems unreal that you ever cared for me like you did then. It makes sense to me now though, that it was just a high school thing for you. It’s been a long time. You grew up. You grew out of it. That’s fine, it’s normal. It was years ago, obviously it wouldn’t mean anything to you still. But not for me.

You are one of the kindest people I know. Soft, tender, caring, funny. You were also just a really true friend. You came to see me in, “The Government Inspector” and during the second act, when my character was hiding in the closet listening to a private conversation, and I peeked out into the audience through the slats in the set, you were looking right at me. You smiled, and gave a minuscule wave. After the show you gave me a hug and a good job, even though I was sweaty and dressed as an extremely obese Russian man. Both our families went to Heather's halloween birthday party in the mountains. You and I walked in circles around the tiny, ornamennt filled garden and laughed at squirrels and the guest house built exclusively for cats. You asked, "so if you had been a pirate for halloween, would you wear the parrot on this shoulder? Or this one? And you playfully put your arm around me. We climbed on rocks with my brother, and our friend from church. and you smirked rolled your eyes when I took a bite of my hamburger but i turned away because I didn't want you to see me eating.

Christmas break was wonderful. We were together a lot, watching movies. One night, you picked me up and my mom made my little sister come, as a chaperone. I was so annoyed with her. But it didn’t faze you, you were happy as a lark. We drove out into the middle of nowhere to pick up a friend but we quickly realized we were lost. We went up and down that street a dozen times looking for josh’s house and by the end we were dying laughing at the number of U-turns we’d done. The neighbors all probably thought we were criminals. My sister thought we were crazy, too. We were in your old red car, I loved that car. I was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and I had curled my hair. It was mid-December. As we drove down the street for the umpteenth time, I wasn’t even pretending to look at the house numbers, I was just looking at you, watching your face as you told me a story that I now can’t remember. And the Christmas lights from the houses outside were reflected in your eyes. When we finally got back to your house with our friend, some of the other boys there were teasing me about my hair being curled and I was embarrassed. It was obvious that I’d curled it only for you. After a few minutes, you told me you thought it looked nice. And the next day I bought my own curling iron. 

We watched a LOT of movies together that Christmas break. I was content there in your living room, next to you on the couch laughing at absolutely nothing. You would complain about your dog and I snuck a giant box of Nerds into your scripture case during Sunday school as a Christmas gift. Our mothers were sneaky and I think secretly approved of our feelings. They ‘randomly’ decided to get our two families together for a game night at my house. I love our mothers. You were wearing a blue shirt and a white sweater and khaki shorts and I cherished that night, because I got to sit next to you the whole time, and I could look at you as much as I wanted without it being obvious. We sat next to each other at my table, shoulder to shoulder and I was so happy. We were so happy. That night you hid a package of Swedish fish in my towel closet for me to find for Christmas. You also included a red pencil from Disneyland (I collected pencils at the time) that had mickey ears in the eraser. There was a note too, it was short, but sweet and you sounded nervous. I read it a thousand times.

 I felt on top of the world. One Saturday we spent the day together. We went to a baptism, and then to the Reeds and played video games, you killed me. And as we were leaving you shut the gate on my leg and you apologized 5,000 times before I convinced you I was really okay. Then we went choir practice for the Christmas program. After every song was finished, I’d turn around, trying to be casual, and our eyes would meet. We’d smile shyly, I’d hold my choir book up to hide my face from our moms and say something clever just to see you smile. I felt like I was invincible when you smiled at me. After practice was the ward Christmas party, and we sat next to each other at a table with the Reeds and another friend. That night you asked me to prom and I thought I was going to faint from excitement. But, the date would be one day before my 16^th birthday and my mom said I had to wait until I was 16, so you said we would do something else the next weekend instead. ‘Besides, who wants to go to prom anyway?’ you teased, trying to lighten my mood. We agreed on an activity and we were thrilled.

With the New Year came the trips to stake choir practice. You would drive all the way out to my house, then back into town to get your brother, and then we’d drive 25 minutes to the choir practice. Those drives were some of my favorite memories of you, just because we got to talk to so much and it was like how I wanted our life to be. Together, driving, talking about our day, laughing over pointless things, small talk. You also loved to make me laugh. And I loved to laugh at you. We passed an advertisement for H1N1 vaccinations on the freeway. The sign was pink with hearts and in white lettering it said, “Make a date to vaccinate.” We thought it was the cheesiest thing ever. Then one day my mom took me, my little sister and one of my brothers, to the fair grounds to get vaccinated and guess who was ahead of us in line, unplanned? Yup. You beamed, and walked right on over to me. I remember laughing at something you said and putting my hand on your arm in the stereotypical, “oh, you are SO funny!” pose and your mother raised her eyebrows. I don’t think she was upset, just surprised. I blushed. I’d kind of forgotten she was there. We joked about our H1N1 vaccination date for a long time after that. Thank you, swine flu. 

We’d have game nights, just an excuse to see each other, of course. One night we were playing, “curses” and one of your cards required you to copy the motions of the player across from you who was our friend from church. That friend put his arm around the boy next to him playfully, so you put your arm around me and flirtatiously asked, “Hey Melissa, how are YOU doing?” I have never blushed so thoroughly in my life. Your next card required you to declare your undying love to the next player who had to ding the bell. Well, yup. That next player happened to be me. And yup, you playfully told me that you loved me. I knew it was just for the game, but I about died. I forfeited my turn and gave up a ‘life’ just so you would stop because I was getting so red. You laughed and then smiled like an idiot every time I looked at you. I couldn’t even pretend not to enjoy it all.

 One evening, we had stake choir practice and a fireside back to back. A Young Lady from our ward (who ended up being your sister in law) had just gotten home from her mission and was giving a presentation. You and I decided that we could go to both. I didn’t know it, but at this time some of the boys in the ward were poking fun at you for spending so much time with me. We left choir practice early but we were still late to the fireside. Walking in together, ten minutes late sure did cause a scene! Haha. We sat together in the back and the boys across the aisle were making faces and gestures at you. You were trying to stop them, but I saw, and I was annoyed at them. You leaned close to me and whispered, “They think they’re so cool and funny, huh?” My eyes were getting hot, and I really didn’t want to cry in front of you. You saw that I was emotional. You put your hand on my arm and your voice became tender, “hey, forget about them, they’re just jealous.” I looked up at you and I wanted to remember everything about your face. Your encouraging smile, your soft eyes. I nodded, afraid that the lump in my throat would betray me if I tried to reply verbally. Your hand lingered on my arm for a bit before you moved it back to your lap.

I loved you right then.

Whoever is reading can scoff all they want. “but Melissa, you were 15, you had no idea.”  I know how I felt and it wasn’t like anything else I’ve ever experienced. I'm not saying we were 'in love'. I've never bene in love. I believe that the differences between like, love, and in love, are the same as the differences between now, for awhile, and forever. I loved him from then on. You can call me naïve, i don't care. that's how i felt. It was like 6 years of unspoken feelings burst all at once and I knew he was all I really wanted. Him or someone just like him. 

I loved him. I knew I did. And once I knew it, everything seemed absolutely perfect.

He winked at me when he made a good shot during church basketball games, I left notes on his windshield after seminary. He counted on me, he knew I’d be there for him whenever. I trusted him with everything, I loved how he treated his sister. I love his family. We danced for the first time at a church dance. I was wearing a polka Dot dress and his palms were sweaty from nerves. We had ‘a song’, and i will never forget how it felt to walk next to him and know that we were sharing something rare. all the smiles, the notes, the secret glances across the room, It was like a movie.There are a million little things from these months that I adore about him, and that I still smile at but that would take way too long to list.  A million little things that we said or did that convinced me that it would last. I just know that it was real. people say that you can't find something real when you're so young, but i swore we were the exception. It's this weird internal struggle for me now, though. My brain says that i was way too young to know what i was doing. And part of me wonders if he ever even felt the way i did but then i'll remember little things that prove it. He's never been the kind to shout out his feelings to the world, where as i'm a much more "wear your heart on your sleeve, open book" kind. (obviously, i mean, this blog. this post. hello.) But there are definite moments that he made a point to let me know how he felt. For the past 2 years i have clung to those moments. willing them to repeat themselves. trying not to let time blur them. But the longer i get from those seconds, the less i believe they actually ever happened.

One night at youth group, nearing the end of the school year, we had a game night and He was explaining how to play this ‘Curious George’ beach game, and I kept smiling at him, so he kept smiling but trying not to smile, but still smiling. I threw my head back and laughed. So did he. A hearty laugh that made the whole room turn and look. We ate skittles and I tried really hard not to stare at him when he smiled. I remember thinking that night that everything seemed perfect. There was no doubt in my mind that everything would work. I was almost 16, we’d date through the summer, he’d go away to school, and then I’d write him his entire mission, he’d come home and we’d live happily ever after. Everything was as it was supposed to be. Perfect.

And then it all spiraled out of control. I ruined everything with one stupid mistake.

You see, I’m a horrible person.

And this whole time, through all of this, I was leading on another boy because for some reason in my teenager mind, that was okay. It was stupid, so stupid, because in all actuality I did love Boy. But I thought it was fun to lead on this other kid for no reason. Stupid stupid stupid. I was 14/15. I didn’t get it. I’m literally getting knots in my stomach typing this. I’m such an idiot. In the end, a friend from church heard a lot of rumors about me and other kid. Me and other kid were friends, so the friend from church saw us together and told Boy, who was obviously extremely hurt. I am a despicable human being and I deserve what happened. 

Boy was hurt, and slowly but surely, he cut me out of his life. We were both devastated. I understood though, that he had trusted me so completely and I had stomped all over that trust. I’m sure he wondered if everything I ever said was a lie. But nothing I ever said to Boy was a lie. Every word I said to him was true, and every word, i meant. I cared for him more than I can say. Boy last minute asked a friend to prom. I cried. My sister’s wedding reception was that same weekend, so my whole family was in town and at church that Sunday, which also happened to be mother’s day, AND my 16^th birthday. That morning, in church, I walked past Boy and looked at him, hoping to catch his eye. He was wearing his tux from prom. He looked so handsome, it hurt. I knew he saw me look at him but he kept his head down and shuffled his feet. After church there was pie for the mothers, and I was corralling my nieces in the hallway when Boy walked by. I smiled, expecting him to stop and talk like normal, but he walked past me with his friends. On my birthday. 

And I went home and sulked, but I couldn’t even feel bad for myself because I knew I deserved it. and I knew that I had hurt him. I hated knowing that we were both miserable, but I was too afraid to talk to him and make things worse. I sometimes wonder now if I had called him, maybe we could have worked it out. If I had just tried to explain, maybe this would have all ended differently.

Because I was so mad at Boy for ignoring me on my birthday, I went on a date with other kid just to spite him. I was miserable and regretted it the whole night. I should have called you then, too. To apologize and explain. Instead I let it fester. You graduated. I had a gift that I’d spent months preparing, it included all our private jokes and favorite snacks, and the one picture of us that was ever taken. But I let it all sit on my shelf for months more. Collecting dust and reminding me every day that I lost you. You left to college without saying goodbye. When I went on a college tour that fall, I saw you. I’m 99.99 percent sure you saw me too. You didn’t say anything, so neither did i. When you got your mission call, I was the last to know. When you came home at Christmas, you stayed home until February, when you left for your mission. And every Monday I went to your house after seminary before school started to eat breakfast and watch Andy Griffith with your brother and a few other friends. It killed me to see your eyes that once shined when you saw me, become so lifeless and cold when I walked in the room. Then you left, and at your farewell party my mom forced me to go up and say goodbye to you. I shook your hand and you said, “good bye, Melissa” but you barely even looked at me. When my sister and I left, we drove 25 minutes to stake musical practice and I cried the whole way there, regretting never fixing things between you and I.

About half way through your mission I convinced myself to write you a letter. You responded, but not specifically to me. You wrote my family a letter, but you answered all my questions. So I wrote you again. Nothing. I didn’t want to annoy you, so I waited until you were just about to come home before I wrote you again. I told you in that letter that I still had feelings for you, but that if you didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t bug you when you got home. I was petrified to see you. We hadn’t had a real conversation in 2 ½ years. SO much changes in that amount of time, and I was scared that you wouldn’t even talk to me. But you did. And it wasn’t awkward, but you also didn’t bring up anything about us romantically, so neither did i. That seemed okay with you, so I kept a respectable distance. Then I went back to Idaho to finish my freshman year. I expected to stay there until Christmas, and I worked really hard to get over you. I have to admit, I did pretty well. I hadn’t gotten over you, but I’d convinced myself that it was never gonna happen. I wasn’t even gonna see you again until Christmas and even then it would be only at church, and only for like 2 weeks and then you’d be back at school, so there was no point in me trying.

But then I unexpectedly had to come home for the summer. And I saw you one of the first nights I was home. I thought I’d gotten over you, but all at once, as soon as I saw your smile, every feeling came back. Hard. And it felt like a literal punch to the gut. I had to leave the room to hide my face. That week I told you that my feelings hadn’t changed, and that I totally understood if you didn’t reciprocate those feelings, but I just asked you to let me know how you felt, so I would know for sure. Because the wondering was killing me. Although I should have just trusted my gut and taken the lack of an answer as an unspoken answer. Because the silence that followed my apology and confession was even worse than the original. Unspoken rejections are a million times worse than verbal ones, because you imagine in your head all the absolute worst ways that a person can phrase, “no”. That’s the most horrible part for me. Is that you never even responded at all. A No could have been fine, I was expecting a no. I could have dealt with a No. I could have bounced back from a No.

Instead, you gave me the loudest silence I’ve ever heard.

And this whole summer has been an absolute nightmare for me. Because now, I know that it’s all really over and done and there’s no chance for a comeback. No do-overs. You’ve moved on and I need to too, but how?

How do I move on from all I’ve ever really known? It would be easy if you’d turned into a jerk, but you haven’t. You’re as wonderful as always. we sat next to each other at a baseball game a month ago. you brought your sister and she sat in between us. the air between you and i was unbearably stiff, and i hated being so close to you, knowing that there was nothing in your heart for me. But i watched you with your sister and you were just as kind and loving as ever. you made her laugh and her laugh made you proud. you haven't become a jerk, and that sucks. you politely nod when our eyes meet as we stiffly pass each other in the halls. You sat behind me in church yesterday and it cut me like a knife to hear you singing. I hate hearing you laugh now, it used to be magic, but now it’s torture. I hate being around you all the time, and having to act like I’m fine. I’m not fine. Not at all. I hate having to interact with you like we are friends, because we haven’t talked about anything deeper than the weather in 3 years. I hate thinking about all the beautiful, happy things we did and said, because that will never be reality again. And it all seems so impossibly long ago now. I hate that every guy I’ve tried to date since you has paled in comparison, and that I’m still going to size everyone up to you. I hate not knowing what you were thinking for so long, or what you're thinking now. I hate hearing other girls giggle about you and knowing that they could legitimately one day be with you. And I never will. But that was all I wanted, for so long. All I wanted was you.

And now it’s like a contest to see who can ignore the other most efficiently. And it’s a waiting game until we’re back at school and we can relax and not worry about seeing each other again.

The worst part about you not answering me is that all summer, there has been this teeny part of me that jumped whenever I saw you, because I thought maybe, just maybe if I curled my hair the way I used to, or if I acted well enough or apologized long enough, you’d come running back. I’d have dreams of you driving to my house late at night and telling me you’d changed your mind. Every night since I’ve been home I lie in bed. I can’t sleep. I just think about what an idiot I was to manipulate people like that. I had no idea that it would mess up so much for me. I could never have known that ten years of my most vehement dreams could look so beaten and unfamiliar.

But that’s all over now.

Here’s what’s real:

I loved you then, but I hope I stop loving you soon, because this achey feeling sucks. A lot. I hate it.

You do not love me. Maybe you never did. You never will.

You’ve moved on and now it needs to be my turn. So this is it. The last time I mope about you, the last time I day dream about you, the last time I write a vague blog post about you.

Cross my heart, hope to die.

Just know that I had the biggest hopes for us, and I never mean to dash them. And that I’m sorry. For everything. And i do want to be friendly. eventually. but not now. not until we're both with who we should be and i've gotten over all of this. And don’t worry, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Promise.

And Just for the record, to anyone who read this, (I'm lookin' at you, mom) no i'm not drowning in depression. I'm okay. no need to get your undies in a bundle or fear that you've been neglecting me. you haven't. I just needed to get everything off my chest. once and for all. 

done.