I met K during fall of my second year of community college. It wasn't love at first sight. He seemed just like an average looking Joe; tall, blonde, dark wash jeans and a polo shirt. I saw nothing remarkable in him, and so I paid no attention to him during the first half of the quarter of the accounting class we shared. I was a vocal student, and so the teacher and I would often have conversations before and after class. During one of these conversations, I made the teacher laugh and K, who sat a row in front, looked back and smiled at me. It was such a sweet, genuine smile. The kind that lights up the whole face and turns a plain looking boy into something memorable.

My crush started off light. I would enter class a minute before the lecture began, and K, who always arrived early, would turn and smile at me in acknowledgment. Sometimes I'd say hi, and other times I gave my attention to my desk mate.

Towards the end of fall, an organization I was part of hosted a potted plants painting event. I advertised to my accounting class and K showed up with his twin sister. He looked as cute as ever as he sat at a table, focusing intently on his painting. At one moment he looked up, and we made eye contact and that grin I adored took over his face. It was like he was telling me to drop everything and go to him. And I obliged. I rushed to finish helping the few students who need supplies before finally walking over to socialize. It was our first out of class conversation.

We became fast friends, and to be it seemed more. I'll often gaslight myself into thinking it was more just on me side, but reader know this. Maybe at some point it became only me who was interested in something more, but I swear to you with all that I am, at least for a moment, he felt the same I did. I believe world is not so cruel as let one fall as hard as I did for and for as long as I did for someone who never felt the same. Our phone calls about the assignments often ran long and we talked about more than accounting. I learned about his family and all the dysfunction that crafted what I believed to an immaculate man. When spring came and he changed majors, we drifted as expected. We had no reason to call and he often didn't show up to class. My feelings persisted, and I would dress my best just in case I saw him. And when he did show up to school, I fought with every cell in my body to remain calm, cool and collected as I sauntered over to him. Then we'd sit in that little cafe or student room and just talk. And he would smile that grin that I adored so much. Just for me, I thought.

School ended and I didn't see him for all of summer until one day he called me randomly towards the end of July. I got so excited, and figured he finally ready for something. Why else would he call after three months after no contact? We talked for two hours, I told him about my parents separation earlier that month, and he told me his views on marriage. I felt so whole, so excited in the weeks leading up to school. We'd both left the community college, me from graduating and him I suspect to get distance from his family, to pursue a four year college. I'll be honest, dear reader, there's a 10% chance the reason we ended up at the same four year institution was because he told me in March of his plans to attend and I eagerly applied. I will say I toured the school myself and made sure it offered me the best financial aid package before deciding to follow him. I can without one doubt tell that I would have not gone after him had all the odds not lined up the way that they did.

When we got to our new school, two some hours away from our separate homes, we hung out all of one time. He had a car and because he knew I didn't bring mine, he offered to take me with him when he went shopping for dorm supplies. I had shopped earlier that week with some friends, but I eagerly told him yes. We had fun and laughed like we had at the community college. Things felt natural, and he poked fun at the provocative way I dressed. I didn't mind, in fact, I used it as an opportunity to flirt and he reminded in manner. An hour or so later, he dropped me off and that was it for our one and only time alone outside of school. We called a few times during those early weeks of school and talked about life, the finance and self help books we were reading and all the little excitements that come with the first month of university. Sooner than I had hoped, we grew distant once more and the calls stopped, but the feelings stayed. I would see him around campus often and he would give me that smile. The one that told me I was the only girl for him. And I would get a little shy, but smile back just as huge.

The last time I saw him that year was in February and the student union building. Right when I saw him, I ended the conversation with my friends wand walked over to his table. We chatted, and he told me about the sports he has joined as i detailed my nerves about being on a traveling sales competition team. I left him on a good note as I headed to my class.

When his birthday passed in March, I was away in California at a competition and didn't take note until a week later. I shot him a quick text saying 'happy late birthday!'. I thought it was a good opportunity to start talking again while showing that I cared. He responded with 'thanks'. My heart fell a little as that wasn't a message that conveyed a want to talk more. So I left it as is.

The months passed and I'd miss him here and there. I would tell my close friends of my feelings and about what never was. By mid summer, a lot of life had happened and he was at the back of my mind.

Until he called me in late July.

Why? Why? Why???

Hindsight is 20/20. If I could go back, I would shot the butterflies in my stomach, but still pick up that call.

We talked for about a week before he grew distant. Like all the times before, I made up a million excuses on why he wasn't calling. He was busy. He worked a ton. He also had lots of friends. And his family often needed him. Everything reasonable and some not, I tried my best to give him the benefit of the doubt. Because I hoped once we got to school, things would be different. He would see me for the first time in six months and all his feelings from before would come rushing back.

They didn't.

I saw him on my first or second night back. We lived at the same complex and randomly ran into each other at the pool. We said our pleasantries and chatted for all of one minute before he and his friends left.

Someone with half a brain would have known to drop things at the end of community college, or in fall of the first year of university when it amounted to noting after so many chances, but not me. I believed we were destiny. And so I reached out to him, explicitly asking to hang out. He said yes and guess what?

Yeah, you got it. I got soo excited once more.

The ball was in his court, I told him verbatim, and still he didn't pick a date nor a time.

At that point even a blind man would see how bleak it was. How dead it was. How no matter how much I'd prayed and hoped, there was nothing.

But not me. Not with him, at least.

Using the last of my dignity, though in all honesty, I'm not sure I can claim to have had any at this point, took a couple of weeks to get over him. I cried for seven straight nights. And on night number eight, I finally started feeling okay. On night fourteen, I felt almost back to the way I'd been before the July call.

Then I heard a song.

It was 'Buffalo' by Kenzie Kait, and in this song, there was a line that said;

I don't want to meet you, in another twenty years
Walk out of the bar alone in tears
Wishing I could go back to right here, where we let go
So what if we don't go?

I felt so overwhelmed with emotion that I decided right then and there to text him about my feelings, something I had never done in the almost two years I'd liked him.

In the text, I told him not to respond and half me wanted that, but a much bigger part craved the response. It was just a defense mechanism.

He didn't respond, but I felt relief wash over him that day and every day that followed.

I feel embarrassed about the message that I sent, and I wish I'd gone about it a little less hastily, but more than all of that combined, I'm so glad I told him.

I spent TWO years wanting this boy. TWO YEARS.

I was a senior in high school (and simultaneously a sophomore in college) when we met, and now I'm in fall semester of my final year of university. I spent all of my junior year paining after this guy. I wouldn't date anyone seriously because I feared getting attached to someone else and then K realizing his feelings when I was taken. I didn't want that burden on me, or to hurt someone when I choose K over them.

It's all so messed, yes I know it.

But I'm telling it how it was, and that was the reality.

By telling K, I freed myself and cleared the distortion.

I have so much peace because I can finally see reality for what it is.

K might have shared my feelings for a minute, but that's all it was. The way he treated me isn't the way you treat a friend, let alone someone you genuinely care about. 

I know that now. I see that now. 

I've seen K around school a couple of times since my confession, and just like my text said, I've pretended nothing happened. We talk like nothing happened and it's as good as it ever was. Each time solidifies my decision, and the little piece of heart he holds shrinks exponentially.

It's crazy, but so amazing. I wish I had told him how I felt before we left community college.

I wish I'd freed myself sooner.

Who knows where I'd be today if I had been a tad bit bolder back then.

——
Thank you for reading!
DS: Apr.25.23
DF: Sep.26.23