Direct Mail: The Other Side of Unrequited Love
Hey Ernio, ☺
I could not get over the first part of your story. Reading about your first kiss got me thinking about why kids do the mean things they do. Although I completely relate to your point of view on what sounds like a silly dare gone wrong, I found myself thinking back to a time when I was perceived to be the “mean girl” in elementary school.
In third grade this boy, Marcell, had a crush on me. You could just tell. He would always stare at me. I think another boy in our class may have even confirmed it. I didn’t really feel one way or another about him because he didn’t stand out to me in that way and I was only nine years old.
We were at our graduation ceremony dress rehearsal and they sat us alphabetically but in boy/girl order. My maiden name is Muñoz and guess whose last name started with an “N”? So, he was already sitting there when my teacher tells me that I’m next to go into the row. Being somewhat theatrical, I made a face—a cross between embarrassment and disgust.
Here is the part that I will never forget; my teacher raised her voice in the auditorium so that everyone could hear and said,
“Maybe he doesn’t want to sit next to you either with that horrible face.”
I totally deserved it and I still blush to this day thinking about it! It was a total jerk move but I didn’t do it just because I was a mean, little bitch.
The stress all year of this boy liking me and people teasing me about it and having to live up to his expectations of “dream girl” and wanting nothing to do with the whole thing had just come to a head for me in that one moment she told me I’d be sitting next to him. For me, it was some sort of ironic twist of fate that I should have seen coming because—OF COURSE—I would have to spend my big day worrying about this lovesick dude to my right.
Meanwhile, it took me one second to probably break the heart of this kid who was just happy to share my space. It wasn’t Marcell who was the issue. He could have been anyone! The problem was ME. I chose to vent my frustration on impulse with no regard for Marcell’s feelings because I couldn’t handle the pressure of someone actually liking ME. It was never my intention to hurt him because he was actually a very nice boy.
Just thought I’d share the “other side” with you.
PS: Here’s a pic with the two of us standing on line at graduation:
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