As proof of my utter flakiness and inability to keep my vows, I am writing a post that has nothing to do with the 30 Day Challenge. But this is one of those posts that I have to write, because it won't leave me alone, and I need to somehow entangle it all from my head and into coherent words.
Do you remember this post?
I found the answers this afternoon.
Gov. J, C, and I met up in Boston this weekend and were reminiscing outside by Gov.J's dorm this afternoon. We had been reliving the good ol' days back in middle and high school, when I brought up the questions I had never found the answers to. C thought it was okay to tell me now, since it has been almost six years since then.
It turns out that he was at the root of both incidents. When that rumor went around in sixth grade that he wanted to "propose" to me -- it was because he was planning to ask me out. When that rumor went around in ninth grade that someone was going to ask me to Homecoming -- he was the one.
I couldn't believe it. I nearly spit out my pink grapefruit juice. HIM? He had called me ugly, manly, and all sorts of things that had made me cry when nobody was watching. In retrospect, I suppose he was the equivalent of the boy at the neighborhood playground who harasses the girl he likes in order to get her attention. Unfortunately for him, I never even had the slightest suspicion that he didn't actually think I was an ugly she-man.
C told me that she and many others had convinced him against approaching me in both instances. They were convinced that I would reject him without a second thought. And who knows -- I might have. I was certainly heartless enough back in my adolescence. But the thing is, I can't accurately judge how I would have reacted back then. I had convinced myself that I hated his guts -- but thinking back to those times, I'm not even sure how genuine the extent of my hatred was.
He's been dating the same girl for almost two years now, so don't mistake me for being suddenly interested in him. Because I'm not. But when I really start analyzing this, I am just plain stupefied. In between sixth grade and ninth grade, if my memory serves me correctly, he dated at least two girls. I can understand if he had conked his head real hard in sixth grade in regards to me -- I have had plenty of those "what-were-you-thinking?!" crushes in my lifetime. What I don't understand is why on earth I popped back into his consciousness in ninth grade, especially since at that time, I could have sworn that he had been chasing after Rose.
And I can't help but speculate the what-ifs. What if he hadn't been dissuaded? What if he hadn't chickened out? What if I had actually said yes? He was pretty fucked up after sophomore year. When the drama between him and J started heating up, he was already considered the "bad boy" to J's "good girl." It's pointless to speculate now, but I can't help it. All I can think of is just how drastically different my high school life could have been if any of these things had happened.
Blows my mind.
