Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Crushes, Part 3

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


No comments:

Post a Comment