Love Letters from a Teen Heartthrob

  So whenever that day comes, and I am confident that it will come soon because I’m not sure how much more of this self-imposed secret I can bear, please… please be merciful if I am not what you are interested in. Go easy on me by telling me the truth and I will live a much happier life away from you in the truth than if you were to ever hide your graciousness by a lie that you like me when the truth is that you may not.

  In love, loyalty and torment of heart,

  Your Secret Admirer

  March 26

  You:

  What’s up? Are you having a good day so far today? I hope so. I’m just sitting here in class and taking advantage of the fact that I finished a pop quiz early and there’s nothing really left to do in class. So I’m writing you! (No need to jump for joy. No. . . Really. . . Please stop. Ok . . . I suppose you can jump a little.)

  Well, I’ve got some news. I’m not sure if it’s good news or bad news – hence the reason I’m calling it just “news.”

  You know your secret admirer guy? Well, the latest word is that he’s decided not to tell you who he is because he’s hoping that you’ll like him the way he is right now and so now you don’t have to worry about trying to figure out who he is. And maybe he won’t be writing you anymore because he’s going to maybe take a new approach in . . . trying to date you.

  So, there you go. That’s the news. I hope it’s good news for you. I mean, after all, you seemed a bit befuddled over not knowing who he was and stuff so . . . problem solved! Now onto other subjects.

  Since you liked the cookies I made you in January, I decided to make some more and so we can chew on them at lunch today. So get ready for some tasty bonus treats at lunch later! Wooohooo!

  Later!

  Me

  Chapter 8: The April Chapter

  April 3

  You:

  Hey! What’s up? No, really. What’s up? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so quiet and . . . aloof.

  So . . . what’s up?

  Is something wrong? Anything you want to talk about? I was going to bring my special cap to wear that helps me to be telepathetic for situations just like this but I forgot it at home. So this is your cue to actually speak and tell me what’s on your mind these days that’s keeping you . . . well . . . more quiet than usual.

  Maybe you should note that your quietness has a sort of ripple effect in that when you’re not talking much it makes me wonder what I should talk about. You know, like, two way communication stuff.

  It usually helps when both people in a conversation are actually talking as opposed to one trying to read the other person’s mind and answer questions on their behalf. Does that even make any sense? Probably not.

  I don’t always make sense (in case you hadn’t already noticed). So that makes the problems even worse so I could use your help . . . like audibly.

  Anyhoo . . . I don’t want to pressure you into talking about anything that you really don’t want to talk about so you just keep quiet until you’re ready to talk about . . . whatever . . . and I’ll be here to listen and give you crappy advice – I mean good advice. Good advice.

  Hope you have a good day somehow if it hasn’t turned out good so far.

  Later,

  Me

  April 10

  You:

  I couldn’t help but notice that you’re still a bit quiet these days and I haven’t seen you as often at lunch or after school. You’ve got me worried so I got to thinking.

  Maybe you need to laugh. Nothing helps to heal a heart quite like a good laugh does. So I’ll share with you one of my most embarrassing moments that you can laugh at.

  Last year I was visiting my cousin over spring break. He had invited me to come with him to church that Sunday so I said “sure.”

  Well, just as we arrived, I needed to use the restroom so he pointed me in the direction of the men’s room and told me that he would go on ahead and save me a seat in the auditorium where the Sunday church services would be. He showed me which doors to enter to find him after I finished.

  When I left the bathroom to enter the auditorium, I looked and found that he was seated but he wasn’t able to find seats for us to sit together so I started to look for the next available spot.

  I found a row near the middle and there was an empty seat in the row but the available seat was right in the middle so I had to step over and past about seven people. Once I sat down I noticed that all of the people on my row had a book in their lap. I wasn’t sure why and so I just shrugged it off.

  Then some guy stood up and announced that there would be an opening prayer and that the choir would sing a hymn for all to enjoy.

  I learned why those around me had a book in their lap because after the prayer ended, a guy stood in the front and motioned with his hands for the choir to stand up. Then everyone around me on my row stood up.

  But I just sat there. Almost immediately as my row stood up I realized that several rows of people behind me also stood up at the same time. It then dawned on me that the only row I could find a seat in turned out to be the front row of the choir.

  I didn’t want to be the only one seated when I was smack dab in the middle of an entire row of people standing so I finally stood up.

  I had no idea what song was being sung or how to sing it so I stood there, no book in hand and lip synced a song with a bunch of people I didn’t know and had never met before to an even larger group of people I didn’t know and had never met before.

  Apparently I was the only one that stood up last and wore a beat red face while singing a hymn I had never sung before. Awkward. Needless to say that is an experience I will never forget.

  One aisle over to the right my cousin wouldn’t forget it either because he could not stop laughing.

  So, most people don’t share their most embarrassing moments with others because they’re. . . well . . . embarrassing. But I share that with you if it will put a smile back on that wonderful face of yours.

  See you later!

  Me

  April 16

  You:

  Wow! Okay. That’s a lot to absorb but just watch me become a super sponge after the conversation we just had this morning.

  If I had known when I woke up this morning and met you early before school that you would open up as you did over this secret admirer guy then I assure you I would’ve come much better prepared than I did. But, now I can write you and try and make up for what I might call a missed opportunity.

  Okay, so if I’ve understood you correctly, you actually miss this guy’s notes – a guy that you aren’t even sure who he is – and yet I’m here and with you as your friend and somehow that’s not good enough for you (my words, not yours – at least that’s the impression I walked away with). So I propose that we change that “not good enough” impression.

  I propose that we date. I mean, as in “date” one another. What do you think?

  Let me know! Happy Easter!

  Later!

  Me

  April 21

  You:

  So you really don’t think it’s possible for us to be more than friends? You really think that our dating will just be some passing phase? I beg to differ. I’ll sweep you off your feet if you’ll just let me.

  I noticed you have a picture of your pet cat on your phone. Interestingly enough, before I ever saw that picture I became more of a cat lover and not just a dog lover. Why the recent change, you might wonder?

  It's amazing! We guys love dogs more than cats because cats won't do what we want them to but dogs will. So dogs indulge our selfish desire to be self-serving and cats teach people to be less self-serving and cater more to another's needs.

  I was thinking about the two comparisons, dog-lovers (usually men) and cat lovers (often women) that has since caused me to like both cats and dogs more equally than to just be a dog lover. But that's not the only thing we have in common that could make us a great couple.

&nb
sp; You don't use stinky sticks nor do I. (Stinky sticks are also called cigarettes). I call them that because smoking makes the smoker stink and being stinky is ugly – not attractive. (Using stinky sticks may be worse than people that use the bathroom but then after it they don't suds up their hands with soapy bubbles for at least twenty seconds before rinsing with water. Gross! Which is almost as bad as someone not coughing into their elbow – especially when they have gonorrhea of the throat as their “sore throat” Very scary.)

  I've noticed that on the rare occasions that you sneeze, if you don't have a large tissue handy, you're fast enough to sneeze into your elbow. You're clean and sanitary. That's fantastic!

  I actually use enough deodorant and cologne to smell appealing to those around me. You wear perfume and deodorant. So we both believe in preventing B.O. as air pollution. That's a super great thing to have in common. (I assume you shower daily, as do I. And we both dress well without going totally broke in the process. That's another good thing.)

  But back to the point of my taking you on a date.

  I can’t believe you don’t know why I would want to date you – aside from the fact that you’re absolutely gorgeous. You’re cool about talking about spirituality and God. You don’t see the word “religion” as something uncool or shameful or offensive like some people do. I love that you’re cool with stuff like that!

  After all, I basically asked you a week ago if you wanted to go out on a date with me and the only reply from you that I caught, if I understood you correctly, was “You haven’t actually asked me out on a date.” or, in other words, I didn’t invite you to a specific date, as in, a specific activity for a set date and time.

  So, now, I say, okay. Let’s go out this Friday. I’d like to take you out to go check out the museum of fine arts and then we can go out to eat a nice dinner and then I’ll take you home.

  You half-chuckled that you wouldn’t even know what a date with me would look like. You said we’ve been so much like friends so far that you couldn’t even imagine what a date with me would look like. So allow me to help you out with that one.

  The car I worked for four years to pay for is a gloss black luxury sedan with a mirror tinted moon roof. It’s about three years old but it’s in excellent condition and is not only an elegant sight to look at, but it’s also one of the most reliable brands and safest models around.

  I would pick you up just as the sun sets and I would be well dressed and wear a nice cologne that both of us enjoy. I would open the passenger side door for you to seat you comfortably before I get behind the wheel (just as a true gentleman should).

  Then we would make our way traveling down the highway at the proper speed limit of sixty-five miles an hour with the scenery all around us of modern buildings reflecting various colors of the sunset and other building lights and street lights as the night begins to fall all across the city.

  Some of the most classy and romantic music you could imagine will be playing smoothly through the custom eight hundred dollar stereo surround speaker system in my car. The temperature in the car will be exactly to your liking – not too hot, not too cold.

  When I park at the museum I'll park right by some beautiful blossoms of flowering shrubs that show off the elegant landscaping that surrounds the museum and parking lots (unless you're allergic. And if that's the case, maybe we should pick a date activity that's totally indoors all night).

  Once we arrive at the museum, as we enter through the tall glass doors we’ll see signs all around advertising the current exhibit. I’ll have our tickets in hand and you’re welcome to keep your ticket stub after we enter if you want it as memorabilia for later.

  There will be various people already there looking at the exhibits and maybe we’ll even hear a few “Ooohs” and “Ahh’s” quietly mumbled from others from time to time. And although most will be “ooh-ing” and “ahh-ing” over the various exhibits, some may do so over you because they see you as a beautiful work of art too. (And who can blame them?)

  We’ll then go to a restaurant that serves foods that you won’t have any allergic reactions to because no bee stingers will be on the menu (I checked in advance) and then we’ll go home. Nice, huh?

  So are you ready? Will you go out with me? I can pick you up at 7 pm this Friday and I’ll win the “best date of the year” award from your parents because I’ll make sure you’re back home safe and sound by absolutely no later than 11 pm.

  So if you can imagine all of that, I’ll see you at 7 pm this Friday. Deal?

  Later,

  Me

  April 29

  You:

  I’ve never been stood up before until the Friday of what was supposed to be our date. Your mom said you had changed your mind but she didn’t say why. And since you seem to be avoiding me in the halls and at lunch I’ll ask you, “Why?”

  Why did you cancel with me Friday without even telling it to my face? Why does it seem like you’re avoiding me?

  Did someone tell you that I smack my lips loudly while eating at restaurants? Did someone tell you that I have a tendency to bring my very own silly straw with me to drink with at dinner? Did someone tell you that I prefer to make up a foreign language as I order just to confuse the waiter?

  Well if anyone has told you any of those things then just know that those are all lies; viscous rumors spread by people who have gone out with me to dinner before and observed my doing similar things that they then exaggerated through the evils of dating gossip.

  And if anyone told you to make sure I’m not actually a super creepy guy by making sure you read Gavin de Becker’s book “The Gift of Fear” before going out with me or any other guy, then you should already know I’m a good guy to go out with. That book may give great advice as to how to know when a guy is trying to trick you to harm you but you should already know I would never try to trick you on a date to harm you on a date or at any other time.

  And I’m not trying to say I’m afraid of you reading that book either. In fact, go on ahead and read it. Then you’ll see I don’t fit the description of any of the creepy stories about creepy guys that hurt girls and women.

  So I’m pretty sure I’m a safe date to go out with. Not that I’ve ever dated myself , I mean . . . not that I would date myself – I mean . . . not that I wouldn’t date myself. . . I mean . . . oh, for crying out loud! You know what I mean!

  Look. I’m just worried about you. About our friendship.

  So please, just tell me. Are you okay? Are we okay? Are things still cool between us? Because it seems like things aren’t cool and I’d like to fix anything that you think needs fixing. And I can’t fix things very well if I don’t know how it got broken in the first place. I’m willing to man up and admit that maybe I’m at fault for something. I just need to know how you think I’m at fault or how I screwed up with us if you think I did.

  Please talk to me.

  See you later (hopefully),

  Me

  Chapter 9: The May Chapter

  May 7

  You:

  I got your note and I’m pretty sure I know what you mean when you say, you “just need some time to think.” So you’re still not talking to me.

  Is this some kind of hidden “Pride and Prejudice” thing going on like in between the lines? Am I supposed to be Mr. Darcy or something? Because I’m pretty sure I’m a heck of a lot funnier than Mr. Darcy. (I would also add that I’m better looking than him but I haven’t seen a picture of the guy and I’m not exactly sure what your type is.)

  I know this isn’t a “Beauty and the Beast” thing because neither one of us is a beast. I know this isn’t a “Wuthering Heights” thing because if I had somehow accidentally wandered into such a scene I’d likely be munching on s’mores and clearly out of place as I would ask any and all passers by where the nearest exit to that story is. “Ummm . . . Excuse me... How do I get out of here? I mean, clearly, I’m out of place here. In fact, I don’t ev
en know how I got here.”

  And with the strange looks I would get from others accustomed to being in that story I would have to defend myself by quickly adding, “I’m not drunk, okay? I just want to know how to get out of here.” and the strange looks would continue and people would probably just run away leaving me stuck in this story of misery and heartache.

  (Maybe I should be careful what I write here so I don’t consequently find myself in something more like a Brother’s Grimm tale.)

  At any rate, I kind of feel lost in a story where I’m pretty sure I should know the plot but your silence causes it to elude me. If you want to talk, you can find me at lunch but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.