I hope that if the afterlife is a thing, that you're somewhere with Grandma and Grandpa and that they're spoiling you rotten by making all sorts of food. I can only imagine all of the pancit Grandma would make. The other day I suddenly pictures Grandpa standing in the back grilling fish over an electric grill, and then I was picturing their entire backyard in the old yellow house where we used to climb their trees and sneak into their vegetable garden.

I need to sleep now, but I miss you. We all miss you.

After I stopped feeling bitter about being dumped by my first boyfriend, I told myself that I wasn’t going to fall for anyone else (at least until after my family moved.) Life was less stressful, my friends made school fun and interesting, and I had all the time in the world to observe everyone around. The way things had been going, I was sure that my last two months at this high school was going to be good and that I’d leave with no regrets.

Things didn’t go exactly as I had hoped.

I had gym class that semester and that was the norm for sophomores like myself. I had exactly one friend in the class (we’ll call him Dick), and we attached ourselves to two of the like three upperclassmen we recognized as friends of other friends (let’s call them Cat and Jack). The four of us kept to ourselves when we could, and I swear I thought we were “the bee’s knees”.

It’s interesting when I think back on our dynamic because even though we clung to each other during class and lunch, we were all still independent of one another. Dick, by far the most outgoing of our group, often branched off and socialized with other people in class. Cat and I would chat about all the mutual friends we had and how it was funny we hadn’t actually met before then, but once in a while we would split apart to join in on a game of whatever it was our class was supposed to be participating in. If Cat didn’t come to class, I was fine floating around to different groups of people. From what I can remember, Jack was already friends with Cat, and if he didn’t join in on our conversations he seemed content just sitting nearby taking care of of work for his other classes. (Our gym class was outrageously laid back. I don’t think our instructors cared so long as we walked/ran the track for a mile. But the class was 90 minutes long and we were off the track after about 20 so…)

You might be wondering who I suddenly had a crush on. Was it the socialite, Dick? It was. For about a month when I first met him at the beginning of the school year until I really got to know him. Not a bad person, but he just wasn’t my type and, well, I definitely wasn’t his.

So, there was Jack, who I still didn’t know too well but the physical attraction was there. That I could have ignored and gotten over, but all of a sudden I couldn’t ignore him, and all of a sudden there were feelings. There was this quote I recently read that I feel describes what happened - “I was always looking when you didn’t notice, and before I realized it, it became a habit.”

Before Jack’s absence was nothing to write home about, but after my realization his absence was all I could focus on. I looked forward to our class together, our shared little circle. Instead of my usual “table hopping” during lunch to keep up with other friends, I found myself rooted at the start to a table with Jack, Cat, and Dick.

Cat was the first to point out this change in my behavior. She was discrete about it, and when I didn’t deny any attraction towards our friend she proceeded to share all the nice things about him that she knew of. After this, and I’m not sure how exactly (probably Cat working me into conversations and then quietly leaving) Jack and I talked to each other directly a little more.

Within a few days it felt like everyone knew how I felt. Word got to my brother (we had a LOT of mutual friends due to our close age) and he mentioned it a close friend of ours. This friend approached me one morning and without preamble got straight to the heart of it: I liked Jack. My family was moving in less than two month. Was I going to say anything to him about any of it? My answer: no. There was going to be no confession. I wasn’t going to directly tell him that I was moving because we had only started to get to know each other, and because of our mutuals I figured he would have heard about it anyway.

Jack was a swell guy, and if he heard about my feelings through the grapevine he never mentioned it. We continued carrying on as usual, and I kept telling myself that everything was going to be okay. I was going to be okay pretending like nothing changed and that nothing would.

A lot of stories from my youth I've shared over and over again, but this isn't one of them (but I do recall mentioning it at least once on this website). This story still leaves me feeling ashamed, angry, and upset although I fully understand that I wasn't to blame for what happened.

It’s been almost 15 years so I can say this now: he definitely had stronger romantic feelings for me than I did for him. That’s not to say I didn’t have any. They were there, but the idea of dating someone and having a boyfriend was more interesting. That sounds mean, but it is what it is now.

Being the only girl in my family, my parents were pretty strict about me not actually going out anywhere with my new beau, but they allowed to him to come over and hang out. I feel like our relationship caused a strain on the friendship this guy had with my brother, but brother never said anything to me about it. They did, however, stop talking for a while after we broke up (which I’ll get to soon enough.)

When the winter holidays rolled around my family and I flew back to California to visit relatives, everyone was curious about this boyfriend I had. A lot of the adults liked to point out that I wasn’t dating a Mexican boy. Like, I didn’t really think about that sort of thing when I was attracted to someone, so I was a little surprised at how much they brought that up. It was a long winter break for me. This was a time befoe high-speed internet and it wasn’t yet the norm for everyone to have cellphones. Some had them, but not me. I wanted to talk to this boyfriend of mine, but it had to wait until I got home, and even then it was hard to get a hold of him by phone.

He wasn’t a fan of a lot of the music I liked, and that was fine by me. I never cared much if people liked the music I do. Music is personal and I understand we all have our own tastes. He started to share with me the music he liked, and I found that I liked it also.

Valentine’s Day came around, and he was waiting for me with an a heart shaped balloon with a white rose inside (my favorite flower at the time). I don’t think I gave him anything. Maybe a handmade card? I don’t know anymore. First time girlfriend. Didn’t know what to do.

After Valentines and before his birthday in March is where my memory gets really fuzzy. I recall his birthday arriving, and our friend made him those jello cups that look like earth with gummi worms coming out of it. I also recall feeling too shy to take one, and I figure if that’s the case then we must have broken up before then and since we had mutual friends I didn’t want to stop hanging out with everyone.

We had already slowly started pulling away from each other, and I think I saw it coming because I wasn’t surprised by the contents of the note he slipped in my hand when before my first class started. I waited until morning break to read it, and it took me a while to process what was actually happening.

My friend found me crying in the restroom, and a couple of others asked if I wanted them to beat the guy up. I told them no. I saw it coming, and I’d get over it.

But I also remember thinking that it wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. Breakups were supposed to happen verbally, not through notes, and I always felt that it was going to be me doing it, not him.

For as upset as I got, I was never angry at him for breaking it off. His note was extremely apologetic. In the end, he said something about valuing us more as friends (a feeling I shared), and that he was sorry he didn’t feel what he did in the beginning. He also added that since I was moving back to California at the end of the school year, it was probably best. It was until a day or two after when I noticed someone new hanging around and on him that I started to feel anger. I knew him enough to know that it wasn’t something that just started, so that meant they were cozying it up before he ended things with me. The idea didn’t sit well with me at all, and I felt very disrespected by both parties.

The new person wasn’t actually new to me. In fact, they were one of the few people in high school who was open about their admiration for me and my ability to draw. They even had a fanclub for me (which weirded me out, but no harm no foul so I let it be). This was the person who changed the way my ex felt about me. Was it a personal attack on me? Was it just a coincidence? I don’t care anymore but I admit that I’m still curious about the events that led up to the breakup.

The ex and I kept things civil, but he was fully aware of how betrayed I felt. If we talked directly to each other we kept a friendly distance, but mostly I stayed away. Our mutual friends I only talked to when I noticed he wasn’t around or when they sought me out instead. I think some of them were upset too with the change in the dynamic of our little circle after the new girlfriend reveal.

I got over my anger/jealously pretty quickly, because I truly did value the friendship we once had and I wanted it back if he was willing. He was, and we mended our relationship as best as we could before I moved away. After that, we kept in touch via AOL Instant Messenger (that used to be a cool thing), and then eventually via text msgs after I got my first cell phone with my new part-time job money.

We talked about everything that wasn’t about dating people or the want to date people. There were drunk phone calls and text conversations at 3am. Mutual friends taking over his phone asking if I’d consider dating my ex again. I always politely refused, and they always said they understood. They had always liked me more.

The conversations between us began to get very deeply personal. Things I couldn’t share with anyone else, didn’t want to share with anyone else, and things I didn’t know how to tactfully handle. But I did my best, I think, because we’re still friends now even if we only talk through the odd comment here and there on our many social media accounts.

Once I was at a bar far from home...

I think it was during third grade when my parents took us to the store with the rare purpose of treating us just because they had the opportunity to splurge a bit. I picked out a rainbow backpack with Sylvester the cat (one of two favorite Looney Toons characters) and well with Sylvester came Tweety Bird :/ Anyway, so it was this awesome drawstring backpack, and they also bought me a big pack of Crayola markers. I was so excited and happy and it was so incredible to have all of those colorful things in my possession.

I feel like I’ve mentioned this publicly before, but I don’t remember if I actually have… but I just read something that reminded me of a debate assignment we were given in my government class during my senior year of HS. We all got put into pairs and each group was assigned a different topic to debate. Our teacher decided who was on the pro and con side of things. I was chosen to speak against same sex marriage. It felt so wrong. There was nothing I could twist to make myself argue against it, and I admit that I tried. I pulled up some of the most ridiculous arguments I had heard at the time, and I didn’t even bother writing anything coherent. Just scribble stupid shit on notebook paper with the intention of using it as reference when we performed our debate in front of the class.

The time came for our debate, and my partner gave their points for supporting sex marriage. It was good. Then it was my turn. I read off one shitty point against it, and then I just stopped. I remember looking at my paper, then looking back up to my teacher and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this. I can’t argue against it.” My teacher, god I loved my government teacher so much even before this moment, she nodded in understanding and clapped, signaling the end of our debate. I don’t remember what any of the other debates were about, I was too scared to pay attention. “My grade. My grade.” That’s all I could think about. I eventually wrote a paper in lieu of the debate, but I was allowed to write about the debate in favor instead of against.

People looked at me differently after that. Not in a negative way, but there was this sort of awe they all had in their faces when they greeted me. And I usually didn’t get greetings. I was the quiet kid in class that doodled all period but still receive high marks.

Long distance relationships seem to very commonplace now, but when I tried it the idea was still sort of taboo(?) unless your S.O. was in the military or had some career that required a lot of travel and long stays away from home. Not to mention that I was only 13 but I was mature enough, right? My schoolmates were dating left and right, so why couldn’t I do the same online?

The first I got along well with was an older guy, who when I think about him now was super creepy and a pedophile. Ugh. We shared a lot of the same interests (video games, music) and I thought “hey! this is cool! I can talk to guys and it’s so easy!” It wasn’t until later that I let myself realize that the anonymity that comes with the internet makes so very many things easy. This guy admitted to me that he was already in a relationship, but made it easy for me to convince myself that it didn’t matter. We could have our relationship over the net and it would be fine. It lasted a few months, and then it came to its inevitable end leaving me heartbroken.

The junior high student council was holding a fundraiser during our lunch break on Valentines Day where for a $1 you could send your “Valentine” a little note and flower. As was my way, I had been crushing on a classmate the entire school year at that point, and after a bit of prodding my friends convinced me to take a chance! Go up on that stage and purchase that valentine! “Send it anonymously,” they said. So I gathered up my one dollar and some courage and did it. I didn’t even sign “from your secret admirer.” Just wrote the boy’s name, maybe something like “happy valentine’s day” or if I was really bold maybe I even wrote “I like you.” (The latter is doubtful, but that detail is lost to time now.)

Lunch break ends and we all return to our third block classes. This class was one of the few I shared with my crush, and before the class was asked to settle down I noticed he and his friend going desk to desk with my “secret” valentine. At 12 years old I was already pretty decent at feigning indifference (I had to learn to avoid being teased for a number of reasons in the past), but internally I was freaking out.

Judgement day came and the two boys gave their greetings and then asked if I knew who sent the valentine. I denied any knowledge of it, of course, (dumb of me), and I thought that was the end of it. Then the friend picked up a sheet of paper I had prepared for class with my name written on it and began comparing my handwriting to the card. My face was hot and I’m sure it was beet red.

I continued to deny the fact that the valentine was sent by me, and after a few more agonizing moments of being extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable the boys left me alone. I don’t recall if they continued playing detectives after that.

At nine-years old, the little girl started to believe that the “great love” only existed in fiction so she began to drown herself in it. Love was a common theme in everything she surrounded herself with. Entire comics were drafted where the strong heroine, never actively looking for romance, stumbles upon a love interest and the two, after many dangerous hurdles, realize they “need” each other.

Just when she stopped looking for herself, the girl’s friends were suddenly very interested in love and all of the things they thought came with it. Maybe it began with the media feeding ideas into their heads, or maybe it came from the stories about boyfriends shared by the more mature eleven-year olds they met. The older kids knew even older kids, and that meant they knew a lot about life and love.

The only thing the girl knew at that point was that she was beginning to fell left out, and when her friends splintered off into new groups that shared their interests in dating the girl pushed herself deeper and deeper into her own world. The little girl was so far off into her own worlds that she missed all of the movie cues of a budding romance when presented to her. She wasn’t like her friends who dressed to impress and started wearing makeup, so she didn’t think anyone would come to her with anything other than an offer of pure friendship.

It started with light-hearted teasing. When she thought about it after the fact, it was a poor way to kickoff a romantic relationship in her book. No wonder everything that came after was written off as experiences between two close friends. (The girl still isn’t completely convinced that it was anything more than that.)

After that it was small displays of kindness. There were the “I was at the store and randomly saw these and remembered you liked them a lot so here you go” gifts that were only given to the girl. A thing to note: this gift-giving boy was a friend to the girl and her tiny group of friends who shared a common interest in this ‘thing’ given by the boy. The girl wondered why he didn’t give each of them a gift when there was more than enough to share.

A series of “don’t worry, I got you” moments followed, and the friendship was good. It was came during a time when the girl felt as though her other friends were leaving her behind. This new friendship was fun and fulfilling.

The next target for her affection was another older school boy, and this older boy was one she wanted to kiss. Not knowing how to successfully approach and keep the attention of this boy, the girl maintained her distance and settled for admiring in secrecy. Eventually the boy learned about the girl and her feelings.

At this point in the story the boy approaches the girl and they develop a friendship, but this isn’t that sort of story.

Summer arrived, and the girl and boy crossed paths again at a different school. A smile and a nod of acknowledgement was given, and the boy went on with his group leaving the girl alone. With no friends to keep her company, the girl spent her breaks daydreaming about summer romances.

The time came when the boy finally approached her, and she was nervous and excited all at once. “Could it finally be happening?” she wondered. The boy asked her for some money.

Nervousness and excitement were replaced with shame and anger. Shame for thinking that maybe the boy did like her as she did him. Anger at the thought of him preying on her affection to get something from her that was hard to come by in her family.

One didn’t know the girl existed.

Another one was a best friend who told the girl all about his crush on their new friend.