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That Fateful Night
How did it happen? It kind of crept up on me. Like a thief. Silently. Unexpectedly. Subconsciously.
He was so much older. He was a junior, I was still in eighth grade. My best friend had a severe crush on him.
Then, that fateful fall night...
He just had to go to youth group. I just had to go too. My dad had to do a presentation. I just had to take 15 minutes to say good-bye to everyone. He just had to start a conversation with my dad. Dad just had to offer to drive him home. He just had to accept.
He didn't even know my name. My best friend inadvertently told him, calling me over. "Why???" she asked, in that puppy dog whine I know so well.
"Hey, I didn't invite him. Dad did," I defended as her mom pulled into the parking lot. "I'll see you next week."
I sat as far away from him as possible, squashed up against the door, almost afraid of the guy sitting a foot away from me.
I don't remember everything he said. Odds are, neither does anyone else. I do remember that he made a good impression on my parents, and that he treated me like an actual person--far from what other guys my age did. When we dropped him off, I let go of my breath and relaxed, trying to shake the feeling that had just sprung up. "Never. No way. Absolutely not." But my emotions never fully shook that feeling. Thus,it began.
The next time we spoke was my freshman year--last year. I forget if we said anything besides hello. However, I began to watch him, and that feeling from the year before turned into a baby crush.
I told my best friend about it the same night she told me she wasn't going to like him anymore. She told me that no guy was worth a fight, and that I could always talk to her about anything. He had already told her that he wasn't ready for a relationship, and neither am I, so I was stuck with a crush. Thus, I got my best friend's permission to like her ex-crush.
Months have passed. He and I became friends. We talk about mundane, impersonal things--dogs, school, why biology stinks, theology, prom nights, everything from soup to nuts. But even through these bland, yet enjoyable, conversations, I can tell he's "Mr. Perfect." However, I'm "Miss Imperfect." I try to be "Miss Perfect" so that maybe I'll be worthy of him, but I fail miserably. He's leaving for college in Virginia soon. He might like me, but if he does, he won't say anything until after college.
I try to hide my smile, the light in my eyes when he's around. I think I've succeeded, but can I keep any facade up for long? Probably not. I've got it bad.
I won't admit it.The three little one-syllable words that make up a personal confession. I certainly won't say the "three magic words" that have caused so much joy and pain in the 6,000 years humanity's been around. It's just a really bad crush--even if all my friends and family think it's more. It might turn into something someday, but no time soon. One thing's for certain: I won't allow myself to fall in love again prematurely. I will wait and watch for my Prince Charming; he will watch for his Princess Charming. College is only four years. We will just be friends. He deserves the best--something I'm not.
Only God knows the end of this story. Whatever the ending, I know it will be happy, because I will end up with God's best for me, and he will end up with God's best too.