Super Short Stories

A Meeting With Fate

There's so much more that went on in my life, and so many better things, in fact, but this story is strictly about my my childhood "love life" and nothing else.

I saw him first in the fifth grade. I learned his name was Ryan. He was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I loved how he was smart, funny, and he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He was very goofy sometimes and he befriended the ones who everyone else was afraid of, for fear of their reputation. Ryan had a reputation for not having a reputation (at least in my mind); he was too unpredictable for one. He also wrote only in cursive. He was the only one I knew who did that, since it was no longer required of us.

Then there was this another boy who was my other 'crush.' His name was Allen. They were both very smart and neither seemed to notice me at all. I dated this boy named Wesley because he sent someone to ask me. We played with his friends at recess for a week, and then the relationship was over.

His friend, Quinton, asked me out the next week and our relationship lasted just three days. Another boy named Troy asked me out later on. I thought it was a joke, because so many people were asking so suddenly, so I told him no. That all happened the first month of school.

Over time, I started to not like Allen so much. It was just Ryan I had my eye on.

A girl named Amber helped me work up the courage to finally ask him out myself. I wrote him a note saying how much I liked him and gave it to him at our Valentine's Day party the next year. He put a note in my locker saying it was up to me if we started dating. I had Amber say yes for me, though I was standing right there when she said it. We were officially dating February 18th, 2007, which is a date he's probably long forgotten about. Why haven't I, I wonder? Maybe it's because he played such a big role in my life, even if that stage has ended.

I was the happiest person alive to be dating Ryan. We sat together at lunch and he made me origami chicks and bunnies in art. We worked on a paper castle together and he let me keep it. We swung on the swings side by side at recess occasionally. We went to Washington D.C. as a class trip and my friend Paige made us hold hands for a picture. She sent it to me for my birthday.

In seventh grade, we had to make bead bracelets on a loom in art. He made his for me. He bought me bracelets and other small things and randomly snuck them in my locker. It was so sweet of him. He did forget out anniversary though, and sent me nothing for my birthday (but that was my fault for not giving him my address, and also for caring that he remembered!).

We had math and band together in 8th grade. He got my stand out for me in band and my calculator in math. He walked me to my classes (as far as he could) sometimes and we'd smile at each other in the halls.

I think our downfall was that we didn't see each other outside of school, we never got passed holding hands (and we did that just once) and we hardly ever spoke to each other. The communication thing was the played the biggest part. I was comfortable with the silence, but I figured one of his older siblings told him it was best to break up with me. And that he did, by slipping me a note in math saying to check my band bin.

At the end of the day all my friends insisted on coming with me to check it. There was a pretty necklace with my name on it and a note. I was happy until I read the note. The note said he was breaking up with me because we hardly talked or saw each other. It also said not to tell anyone, which was him copying what I told him when we first started dating. I almost laughed when I made the halfhearted joke that it was too late for that (for my friends read the note too). They each gave me a hug and I was on the brink of tears on the bus ride home.

It was Monday, October 13th, 2008. I cried my heart out and sat in total darkness, but I had to go to my adopted cousin's surprise birthday party. I went and it was luckily by the river. I stayed out there angrily throwing rocks into the river until I was forced to come in. My grandmother mistook my anger and sadness for boredom. At least I had an excuse for sitting in the corner of the room by myself looking out the door. People say Friday the 13th is bad luck, well Monday the 13th was bad luck for me.

I cried for weeks after that, hiding it from everyone. I started drawing random things in the dark and I became depressed, partly because one of my best friends was in Mexico (indefinitely, as far as I knew) and I couldn't talk to her about it.

I found a rebound, a new crush, named Collin. I didn't know he existed before then, even though he accidentally brought a knife to King's Island the year before. Who could forget that? Just me, I guess. Looking back, I feel really bad for the poor guy, being just a rebound. I got over Collin, very, painfully, slowly.

I gave Ryan a card for Christmas that year, saying I wasn't mad at him (because I wasn't anymore) and I'd love it if we could still be friends. He never replied. We avoided each other at first, then it became a habit and we almost forgot why we were doing that in the first place.

Freshman year, I was tortured as he dated a junior girl who was a friend of his sister's. I tried not to listen to any gossip about it but it was hard since my friends were all in band with them. There was only gossip in the first place because of her; before her no one said anything about him.

At band practice he did something more than PG-13 with her in the woods. They were discovered and were suspended for three days. I didn't want to believe it at first, but the truth sunk in when I saw that they really weren't at school. I was devastated when I finally believed it. They went to Homecoming together, and I intentionally blocked out any mention of him from my mind until I heard that they broke up. I couldn't be happier at that moment. It meant I had a chance with him again, but this chance was very very small, something I either didn't know at the time, or didn't care about.

The next year, our sophomore year, he dated a freshman girl that everyone thought was a weirdo. She was in my gym class and that just made everything worse on me. I ignored her as much as I could, but we were practically the only girls in that class, so I had to talk to her sometimes.

They broke up over the course of the year and I lost track of things. He was still single (as far as I knew) when I left to go to the vocational center, my junior year of high school.

I ran into him at graduation practice, as he showed up so extremely late that we were walking out to the football field as he was entering the building. More specifically, he walked in as I was walking out. Even though we literally almost ran into each other, we barely acknowledged each other's presence. I know why it happened. We had drifted so far apart that it seemed we'd have to go out of our way to even talk to one another...which neither of us did. I don't mind anymore.

I haven't seen him since graduation. There's a good chance I'll never see him again. There's this small part of the childhood me that still loves him. It'll probably always be that way, but I don't love him in a romantic sense anymore. It's more like how I feel about my brother. I still think of him from time to time, wondering where life will take him, and whenever I do, I make sure to pray for him. After all, it's the least I can do.