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do i dare disturb the universe? (full version)
In junior high and high school, I had a good friend named B, with whom for years I was quietly in love.
Silently, even. I never said a word.
I'm trying to remember when we started hanging out. He came to my school in fifth grade, but I was gone in sixth, so it can't have been any sooner than seventh grade -- we may have been in the same class, I suppose. Definitely by eighth grade we were part of the same crowd, and laughed at the samepeople jokes, and were generally pals.
We stayed pals into and through high school. Ours was a close-knit group, like I tend to find myself in; S and C and H and I (that's me -- wow, never had that trouble with initials before [g]); and D and Jn as well, though more on the fringe because while we'd grown up with D, Jn frankly bugged a lot of us and we were sort of sorry they'd become so friendly; and B and Jh. We took mainly the same classes, had a lot of the same extracurriculars, hung around in a pack, that sort of thing.
I liked all my friends, of course -- and S and I had been friends since the first day of kindergarten; Jh and I had gone to Sunday school together since we were four, for crying out loud; C and I spoke the same language in that peculiar way you do with your closest friends, the longest-standing example in my life of brain-sharing -- but, in true adolescent fashion, I, like, liked B. Didn't do anything overt about it, though. At thirteen, I hadn't yet quite worked out how to flirt. And then the summer before high school I fell hard for the camp counselor, and my freshman year was replete with the drama of A. J., but B was always there, always my friend, and that was good.
In tenth grade, in the winter, it was revealed at S's birthday (a big to-do put on by her parents) that H was herself quite desperately in love with B. (B and Jh had been out of town at a debate tournament and were doing quite well, and as long as they kept winning, they couldn't come home and come to the party. H spent a lot of time at the window, hoping they would come up the driveway. I said nothing -- what could I say to her, at a time like that? But each of us had prepared a little thing to read about S, and because the boys weren't there, it fell to me to read B's. See what I mean?) I don't know how the negotiations were handled (I'm sure S said something), but the next thing I knew, they were dating, and the thing was that they were so right for each other, I couldn't even really be all that annoyed that he and I had never gotten together. For a start, H was my friend, so resenting her was not on. And besides, if B and I had ever gone out, I could see where it would have been fun and then ended badly, complete with friends having to choose sides, etc. Better to stay friends all around.
Fast forward to twelfth grade. B and H are still together, and H and S and I are rooming together on a class trip to Quebec (B wasn't there; he took Spanish). I have no idea how the subject came up, but somehow H was telling us how she and B had been talking about before they'd hooked up, before they'd really been friends or even known each other very well, etc., and he'd told her that for years, before her, he'd Liked me. (She said it with a capital letter. You know how that sounds.)
I was seventeen by that time, and life had moved on, and all that, but you never really do stop wondering, and a news item like this hits you right in the ribs. I believe I expressed surprise, the three of us agreed what a mess a relationship like that would ultimately have been, and I betrayed no outward sign that my stomach had shrunk to the size of a ping-pong ball. H left the room for some reason not too long after that conversation, and while she was out I broke radio silence (I had to, man), telling S that for years I'd Liked B as well, and neither of us had ever said anything, oh, god ... S was stunned (so I knew I'd done my job well, for the two years and counting that B and H had been together), and said something obvious but absolutely true: You can't ever tell either of them what you just told me.
Shook it off, everyone went to college, life continued (as it does) to move on. It's all in the past, anyway. But, while I tend to choke up and get misty at weddings, I think B and H's wedding (five years ago -- wow) was the only one where I've ever shed actual tears.
Silently, even. I never said a word.
I'm trying to remember when we started hanging out. He came to my school in fifth grade, but I was gone in sixth, so it can't have been any sooner than seventh grade -- we may have been in the same class, I suppose. Definitely by eighth grade we were part of the same crowd, and laughed at the same
We stayed pals into and through high school. Ours was a close-knit group, like I tend to find myself in; S and C and H and I (that's me -- wow, never had that trouble with initials before [g]); and D and Jn as well, though more on the fringe because while we'd grown up with D, Jn frankly bugged a lot of us and we were sort of sorry they'd become so friendly; and B and Jh. We took mainly the same classes, had a lot of the same extracurriculars, hung around in a pack, that sort of thing.
I liked all my friends, of course -- and S and I had been friends since the first day of kindergarten; Jh and I had gone to Sunday school together since we were four, for crying out loud; C and I spoke the same language in that peculiar way you do with your closest friends, the longest-standing example in my life of brain-sharing -- but, in true adolescent fashion, I, like, liked B. Didn't do anything overt about it, though. At thirteen, I hadn't yet quite worked out how to flirt. And then the summer before high school I fell hard for the camp counselor, and my freshman year was replete with the drama of A. J., but B was always there, always my friend, and that was good.
In tenth grade, in the winter, it was revealed at S's birthday (a big to-do put on by her parents) that H was herself quite desperately in love with B. (B and Jh had been out of town at a debate tournament and were doing quite well, and as long as they kept winning, they couldn't come home and come to the party. H spent a lot of time at the window, hoping they would come up the driveway. I said nothing -- what could I say to her, at a time like that? But each of us had prepared a little thing to read about S, and because the boys weren't there, it fell to me to read B's. See what I mean?) I don't know how the negotiations were handled (I'm sure S said something), but the next thing I knew, they were dating, and the thing was that they were so right for each other, I couldn't even really be all that annoyed that he and I had never gotten together. For a start, H was my friend, so resenting her was not on. And besides, if B and I had ever gone out, I could see where it would have been fun and then ended badly, complete with friends having to choose sides, etc. Better to stay friends all around.
Fast forward to twelfth grade. B and H are still together, and H and S and I are rooming together on a class trip to Quebec (B wasn't there; he took Spanish). I have no idea how the subject came up, but somehow H was telling us how she and B had been talking about before they'd hooked up, before they'd really been friends or even known each other very well, etc., and he'd told her that for years, before her, he'd Liked me. (She said it with a capital letter. You know how that sounds.)
I was seventeen by that time, and life had moved on, and all that, but you never really do stop wondering, and a news item like this hits you right in the ribs. I believe I expressed surprise, the three of us agreed what a mess a relationship like that would ultimately have been, and I betrayed no outward sign that my stomach had shrunk to the size of a ping-pong ball. H left the room for some reason not too long after that conversation, and while she was out I broke radio silence (I had to, man), telling S that for years I'd Liked B as well, and neither of us had ever said anything, oh, god ... S was stunned (so I knew I'd done my job well, for the two years and counting that B and H had been together), and said something obvious but absolutely true: You can't ever tell either of them what you just told me.
Shook it off, everyone went to college, life continued (as it does) to move on. It's all in the past, anyway. But, while I tend to choke up and get misty at weddings, I think B and H's wedding (five years ago -- wow) was the only one where I've ever shed actual tears.
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There's really nothing else to say but platitudes, and I won't go there. Thanks for posting. I hope it's been some kind of catharsis.
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I offer many hugs.
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this has all been by way of slogging through my current Anxiety (which has nothing to do with anyone i knew in high school), so stay tuned.
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*hugs*
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