Tonight I saw that this movie was on and it started me thinking that its pretty accurate for how awkward and out of place normal 16 year old girls feel. This movie was released in 1984 but I think its still relevant. If you’ve never seen it, go watch it. I’m not going to recap what happened but I will share my own story of being sixteen, awkward and in love with a boy.
Sophomore year I started a new school. I hated it. I didn’t know anyone and just really didn’t want to be there. I’m not sure I really gave it much of a chance to be honest. I’m a total late bloomer and I honestly had never really looked at boys or even ever had a boyfriend at that point. There was this particular boy, Andrew, we had classes together. We were friends and he made me laugh. I loved being around him. He worked at Diary Queen and I’d beg my mother to take me there all the time so I could see him. I’m not sure if Andrew ever knew I’d only come to see him there. We also had an English class together that was split in half by our lunch hour. In the second half of the class, I was helping another student with an assignment because I’d already finished mine. As we sat there working, Andrew, who sat a desk away from the student I was helping, blurts out that he wanted to get with me. It was completely out of the blue. My reaction was not good. I was totally caught off guard. I was elated, terrified, happy, embarrassed and did I mention terrified? I acted like I didn’t hear him. I heard. The kid I was helping, to my further mortification says with complete astonishment, “the man says he wants to get with you and you just ain’t gone say nothing?” I swear that was one of those times that I wished a hole would’ve opened up and swallowed me then and there. I replied saying, “shut up, and focus on this assignment please.” There was my chance. Its what I wanted and I blew it for no good reason. All the emotions that rolled around like a tornado in my body didn’t show on my face. I’m good at masking my emotions. I don’t know how or when I learned it, but its just what I’ve always done. Still do. Especially when I don’t know what my reaction should be. Being honest about what or who I wanted and being receptive to him, made me too vulnerable. What if he was just playing with me? These were the fears of 16 year old me. I’d had that game played on me before in middle school. Not by anyone I had a crush on but by people making fun of me because I was fat. That’s neither here nor there though. Back to the topic at hand.
After that, our friendship wasn’t the same. We didn’t speak for awhile even though we still had classes together. Eventually we did speak again but the awkwardness never quite left completely. I went with another boy later in the school year for 4 days. I don’t know why I did. I never liked the boy. I even asked a friend to break up with him for me.
Junior year was a little better. I still had the crush but I figured it was too late. I’d already made of fool of myself by ignoring his feelings. I’d wished he’d try again but I kind of knew that he wouldn’t. Who would risk being ignored again? By senior year the crush was still there, strong as ever but I started going with a guy that was younger than I was. His name was George. He got on my nerves. He just wanted to talk 24/7 it seemed. In the morning he’d meet me by my locker and walk me to my first class. Andrew and I were usually the first two to get there, even before the teacher, so we’d be waiting out in the hall. Again, I purposely rushed so I’d have time alone with him. When I started going with the other guy he’d always insist on me kissing him before he went to his own class, in front Andrew. I hated those mornings. I felt like I was rubbing it in Andrew’s face. Who knows, if he was hurt by it? Maybe he’d gotten over whatever it was he felt for me, and rightly so, but it mattered to me. I felt bad. Especially since there was nothing, no feeling, behind the kisses. Eventually Andrew started teasing me and would call me “George” whenever I walked into a room or passed him in the hall. It always embarrassed me. He’d say it in this loud weird voice.
We graduated. At graduation I still had the crush, it was emotional for me because I knew I’d never see him again. As we were leaving to celebrate with our families, I saw him, our eyes met and I just said “bye”. Andrew did write his number in my yearbook though. That summer, after I ended things with George (he’d gotten on my absolute last nerve being all clingy and corny), I called Andrew but he wasn’t home. I never tried again. It had taken me 10 times picking up the phone to actually get the number dialed. I was that nervous.
I’ve always wanted to apologize to Andrew for that day. My adult self knows you’ve gotta have major guts to express your feelings when you’re unsure of the outcome. Andrew is out there somewhere living his life and probably hasn’t given me and high school another thought. Every time I see Sixteen Candles on television, I think about that day. I think about Andrew and how he made me feel back then. I wonder if I’d had the guts to go for it, would it have changed the course of anything in my life for the better or worse? I’ll never know.
At 33, here I am feeling the need to apologize for something that happened a long time ago between two kids. I heard it said once that your adult years are for getting over our childhoods. I believe that with all my heart. If by some chance Andrew stumbles upon my little corner of the universe and reads this, I’m sorry I ignored you. Even if I hadn’t felt the same, I did feel the same, but even if I hadn’t, I owed you better than what you got because we were friends before anything else. And hey, maybe you were over it as soon as it happened or months later or even maybe not until years later, but I still feel compelled to say I’m sorry.
Love and equality in 2012 ya’ll it’s SO easy!
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