Time frame = 5th-7th grade
Code name = Linear Regression
This is the first crush chronologically that I can write
about with any substance. As you’ll note
from the time frame, this affair is one that consumed a large chunk of my
youth. 2 plus years at that age is nothing to sneeze at given the attention
span of most kids. I still consider 5th
grade to be the best year of my grade school experience. It wasn’t entirely due to the presence of
Linear Regression, but it was an important part of it. The home room setup couldn’t have been more
perfect. In the back corner, it was
myself, Matt Meinheit (my childhood best friend), John Cann (another real good
childhood friend), and of course, Linear Regression. Mrs. Montpetit, good friends with my parents,
was the teacher’s aide who sat near us in the back corner. The chance to joke around with 2 great
friends and flirt with the girl I was crushing on? Sign me up.
All 4 of us were good students who understood how to have fun in class
without getting in any sort of real trouble.
Intelligence has always been a turn-on for me and that was one of Linear
Regression’s appealing qualities. Our
own little “Rat Pack” was a great fit and it made for a memorable year. I’d like to think that over the course of the
year, Linear Regression and I were able to develop a nice little bond, but I’m probably
just remembering it through my own rose-tinted glasses.
There were plenty of school events that I eagerly
anticipated attending with the idea that I would do something amazing to garner
her attention. One such event I recall
was at an indoor roller skating rink. I
should tell you that I’m not very adept at skating now and I was probably worse
back then. I maneuvered around the rink
on trembling legs akin to those of a fawn learning to walk for the first
time. Stopping was a bigger issue, but
I’d ease my way up to a wall and play it cool if someone shot me a questioning
look. I’d give the slight head nod,
suggesting ‘That’s how I roll.’ (See
what I did there?) So why the swagger when I should seemingly have none? I had
on one of my favorites outfits, which gave me the confidence I needed to take
on roller skating – my teal Larry Johnson jersey and purple sweats. I was also wearing my self-anointed “cool” gold-plated
arrowhead necklace. Speaking of LJ, “Grandmama”
was my favorite player growing up not named Michael Jordan. My collection of different LJ trading cards
exceeds 100. What does LJ have to do
with a girl I had a crush on? Nothing,
but Linear Regression didn’t show up on this particular night. I just wanted to use this event to
demonstrate how inept I really was. Purple
sweats?! Sheesh, I never had a chance. Oh well, that simply meant I could spend more
time in the arcade playing NBA Jam
(as the Hornets of course) and less time staggering around the rink trying to
impress a girl.
What I’m about to reveal next takes a little courage……I
would put “Next to You (Someday I’ll Be)” by Wilson Phillips on a repeating
loop and sing along while daydreaming about Linear Regression. What I’m about to further reveal takes even
more courage……I still have that song in my music library and I still willingly
listen to it when the occasion calls for it. You know, those times when you’re
reminiscing and an infectious pop song is needed to take you back. Wilson Phillips’ self-titled album is full of
those goodies. Don’t judge me.
Yes, this is the song I associate with this
particular crush (apparently You Tube doesn’t have an official video, or at
least not one that syncs up the lyrics with the video).
As we came into the home stretch that 5th grade
year, I figured it was finally time to lay my cards on the table. My decided approach paints an accurate
picture of my lifelong affliction of being incapable of telling a girl
(directly) how I feel. So I wrote a
letter to Linear Regression explaining my feelings and asking her thoughts on
being my girlfriend. I decided to slip
this letter in her locker after school right before we left for Easter break. I don’t know why I felt the need to delay the
inevitable. Was the presence of that
letter sitting at the bottom of a locker for a whole week going to change the
situation? Maybe I thought I was
planting a seed and a week of growth would improve my chances. In hindsight, the decision to deliver this
letter when I did could not have been a worse one. It was pure, self-induced torture. My family used the week of vacation to visit
our relatives in Mississippi. I should
have been using this time to take advantage of the deep southern hospitality
but all I could think about was that damn letter. What was her response going to be? I must
have played out a dozen scenarios in my mind; turns out I missed one.
As we return to class a week later, the anticipation
reaching its boiling point, I get my response. Linear Regression thinks… it’s a
joke. A joke! A joke? Well, we did have
a lot of laughs that year and it’s certainly conceivable how she could
interpret the letter as a juvenile prank.
I was obviously crushed that it wasn’t a “Yes”, but her reaction did provide
me with a convenient out. I could play
along, confirm her assessment of the letter, and maintain the status quo. It seemed like the only viable option when
faced with the awkward humiliation that would have otherwise existed. So that’s exactly what I did, grateful that
all was not lost. That remains the only
letter of its kind I’ve ever written to a girl.
I actually contemplated writing another one to someone else very
recently, but it would have only been to express past feelings and not to
request a relationship. That’s perhaps
another story for another submission in this mini-series. I can’t say I’m any better now than I was
back then at expressing my feelings; I guess I’m still searching for the words
to compose that perfect letter.
6th grade didn’t offer any real developments in
my quest of Linear Regression. We didn’t
share a home room this time and our interaction was understandably
diminished. I didn’t waver in my
feelings for her but I had resolved myself to the fact that it wasn’t meant to
be. The only story I have to relay from
this year deals with math. The math
teacher, Mr. Wise, had these “Problem of the Day” questions that dealt with
math and problem-solving. Tallies of
correct answers were kept and a winner was declared each quarter of the school
year. Those who know me know that I love
competitions of any kind and I really wanted to win at least one quarter so I
could go down in the history book (the one being written in my head). I lost in a tiebreaker one quarter to Ricky
Taranda or Chris Crevier. (I don’t
remember which, but they were arguably the 2 smartest kids in the grade, so
there’s no shame in that I guess). I
ended up in a 3-way tie for first in another quarter, so I’d get yet another
chance for victory. As you may have
guessed by now, Linear Regression was one of the finalists (and the other is
completely irrelevant and unmemorable).
I was glad she was in the finals because maybe, just maybe, she’d have a
little more respect for me and my smarts, which would lead to something. Part of me even considered letting her win
but that was short-lived as the competitive nature in me took over. Needless to say, I won the tie-breaker and I
don’t think she was too particularly thrilled with me. It’s a recurring theme but I guess I’ve
always put myself first. (I keep telling you all I’m too selfish to support a
girlfriend).
We reached junior high and there was a whole new stable of
girls to attract my attention (Peotone’s school district has 3 grade
schools). Still, I knew who I wanted;
old feelings don’t die so easily. As
luck would have it, Linear Regression and I ended up on the same MYSA team in the fall of 7th grade. (MYSA is a recreational soccer league and playing soccer also gave her high marks in
my book.) Being teammates was fortunate
because I feel like I do my best work with girls when there is a sport or game
involved. I don’t want to imply that my “game”
actually improves in those environments, but I’m in my element and there’s an
inherent confidence that comes with that.
Some (most) guys can bring the goods at a party or on the bar scene;
that’s just never been me.
So, Linear Regression and I are flirting back and forth one
practice and I decide to pop the question – the same one that fateful letter
failed so miserably at. And wouldn’t you
know it? I got a YES! Looking back, I think
we’d all agree that 7th graders really have no clue what “going out”
really means. It was a social status more
than anything. Truthfully, it still is,
just with a different meaning. I had finally reached the mountain top but a
peculiar feeling engulfed me after the initial joy subsided. I wasn’t so sure any more that a relationship
with Linear Regression was what I really wanted. There’s that old cliché about the chase of
the prize being more exciting than the prize itself, and I’d say that really
was the case here. This isn’t to
diminish the girl who was and, by all accounts, still is a great person. Maybe I just wasn’t the same person I was
back in 5th grade. Maybe I
had cold feet over being in uncharted waters (most likely since that would
still be the case today). Maybe over the
years we had simply evolved into just friends who could banter back and forth
with ease. Whatever the reason, the
spark just wasn’t there. I really wasn’t
sure how to proceed. At the next MYSA
practice a couple days later, Linear Regression approaches me and says she’d
like to break it off. Maybe she’d realized
what a horrible mistake she’d made. (Call me what you will but I’ve been trying to
help girls from making that same mistake ever since). I think the fact that I wasn’t crushed by her
sudden change of heart was all the proof I needed that the crush had reached
the end of its path. I whole-heartedly
agreed and it truly was a mutual break-up.
Going forward, Linear Regression and I were never really
friends throughout junior high and high school.
There was never any weirdness between us. We just didn’t see a lot of each other. I still see her from time to time and it’s
always a pleasant exchange. I wonder if
she’ll see this and correctly peg herself.
If she does, I hope she gets a good chuckle and remembers that this is
all ancient history. J
