In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “First Crush.”
I cant remember how it started, but there was a day, and there was lunch- caprisone and biscuit. I was seven or so, playing catcher (hide and seek) with a classmate during break when I think I bumped into him. He smiled, and my eyes would not get over that sight in another 5 years or so. We ended up sharing my lunch, and chewing on the same straw. Don’t ask me why.
The days after saw us playing together and growing into best friends. We would do practically everything together, even eat my barely-enough lunch together. I liked him. So damn much with my young pre-teen heart, but that’s not the best part– keep on.
I left that school to the same school in a new area- the school built a new branch closer to my home. So we stopped seeing each other for a while, and I almost forgot about him for a fleeting second– until he came back, suddenly, unexpectedly, and a tad too ceremoniously. There was this smell that wafted through the classroom from outside, tantalising in its own right, distracting me from what my teacher was saying in class. Quickly, My eyes darted to the door and he was there, housing that abundant yet graceful smell, the boy after my own heart and I toppled in crush with him all over again. He had come to join us at the new branch, and a part of me jumped in glee at the thought that maybe, just maybe he came for me. So everyday from then on, he became the only motivation I needed to go to school looking good– and I would await his entrance every one time, waiting for his smell to kiss my breath. But at this time, we had drifted too apart to come back together– and we had grown, oh well, he had grown– past hide and seek games, shared lunch and short black girls. He had a clique with whom he’d draw designs on girls and just pretty much play naughty all day long. I had a pseudo- clique too, myself and two very beautiful girls! They had everything I didn’t have, the curves and grace, but I loved them and I still had people to play catcher and share things with.
Time had passed and feelings had changed– safe for mine. He had started making designs on hotter targets but I had only eyes for him. It hurt, but my feelings were enough… If only he didn’t tease me every now and then and pitch my hopes up. One of such occasions was this particular Summer holiday when he called me in the guise of Frank Edoho (the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire host). I was young, and naive, and very gullible so for a few minutes, I thought I was a lucky queen to receive such princely call! He burst my bubbles when he revealed his true identity, but even that knowledge didn’t make me feel less of a queen. I didn’t give him my number, I don’t know where he got it from, but he called and it was all that mattered then. I hung on to that memory and the tingling feelings that accompanied me for the rest of that day– a rare secret for my diary.
Months passed, and so did time, yet my crush won’t budge. I had thought crushes lasted only for a short while, or was it possible that I got so careless and it turned to love? We had become seniors and talked less often. He had joined the boarding house while I remained a day student (at the same school). We would have long bouts of silence, and when we spoke, we would talk almost everyday. He would come sit with me and tell me about his fears, family and stuff. I felt important, maybe I was important; maybe we were still best friends. Then one day, perhaps, the day it all became clear- my feelings- he told me about how he was crazy in love with some girl but was too scared to tell her about it. We were on a short break from school, so he sent it as a text message. He described her and asked that I help him convey his feelings. I wasn’t sure what happened that day but it felt like something died in my heart and my eyes would not stop mourning it. A part of me so much wanted to turn facts around and make me believe I was the one he was wanting, but it didn’t feel right; it wasn’t me but my very good friend that the descriptions matched- a boarder at the same school.
So it was, that my best friend and long-time crush was in love with my very good friend, and I had the responsibility to pass the message across. I played my part, honestly and truthfully, and brought the two love birds together. The next days had me hearing too much gossip about their love affair that made my heart bleed, but I was happy that they were happy and I felt better knowing where I stood in his life eventually. Every now and then, I would hear rumours of how it was me he truly liked and how my name was the only password he used on his gadgets, but it didn’t matter anymore.
I had no more feelings to spare.
If I see him now, I would tell him thank you, because he is the reason why I now write.
© The Short Black Girl, 2015.