That was a good day, let me tell you. The class was Human Geography, so we were identifying maps. After getting settled across the room from him, I went to the front to get some colored pencils. He came up shortly to put his pencils back. As he was walking away, I mustered up the courage and said, “Hey.”
He turned around and said, “Hey, Waverly, how’s it going?”
I smiled and continued to pick out pencils, my version of hard to get. He stood there and after a beat said, “So, I see you guys still sit at the picnic table.”
I was once again caught off guard, so I said, “Yeah, ha-ha.” He stood there longer so I then said, “It’s kind of tradition.” We both laughed, and after a second more, he walked away. Honestly, why am I like this? The dude was trying to make friendly conversation, and I was making it way more complicated than appropriate.
As the year progressed, I started to plant my seed. I sometimes passed by him in the morning before school, so I started saying “hey” when he passed by. It got to the point where he would say it first. That was a small success. In class, I tried my version of flirting. The first one was my weirdest and I’ve considered not spilling it but might as well. So, one normal day, I walked by him and FLICKED HIM on the shoulder and kept walking. I am one hundred percent sure he thought I was a freak, but did that stop me? Nope. I waited a couple of days because I didn’t want him to expect it. Every time I walked behind him, he would whip his head around to see if I would flick him. Until I did again. This time, he called me out across the classroom with a smile or a grimace and said, “Stop flicking me.” Caught.
If you’re still wondering why I made it to age eighteen and was not by choice still single, it’s because I’m an endangerment to good-looking guys everywhere.
So, what did I do? I tapped him on each shoulder a few times, I also poked him one time. As well as walked into class and pretended I couldn’t open my water bottle. I asked him to open it for me because it was “impossible.”
He responded, “Let’s see if I can get it.” Bracing himself, he used both hands and easily unscrewed the top. A baby could have done it, but I needed an excuse. He then said, “That was easy!” I feigned embarrassment, and he corrected himself, “Hey, you loosened it for me.” A true charmer, that one. I can’t make this stuff up, I’m the worst flirt. He took it like a champ and fingers crossed, he found it endearing. This went on and sometimes, I would talk with him before or after class.
He was also very smart, and he could program an entire two-person game on his calculator. One day, I walked over, struck up a conversation and eventually asked him if he was playing a game. His face lit up, and he said, “Yeah, I made connect four.” I teased him a little and said I didn’t believe him, and he showed me. That dude was a genius. Cough cough, nerd.
But I was ready for the next level. One day, right before class started, I wrote a punny joke on a slip of paper and put it on his chair. He walked into class close to the bell and absentmindedly picked up the paper without looking at it once and put it in the recycle bin. Ah, a man that cares about the environment. I gave it a couple of days and tried again. I had to leave class early and as I was walking out, I slipped one on his desk. I not only slid it from the top of the desk slowly toward him, but I also made sure to give it a pat before walking out of the room. I didn’t see him read it, but I know he did. After a day of silence, I wondered if he was filing a restraining order. A couple of days later, he walked over to me and told me a joke. I was very ecstatic, deeply attracted.
Not much happened after that. The year was nearing its end, and I knew I would regret not telling Hotty I liked him so one day passing him in the morning (which was rare) we did the usual “hey,” I then said, “I have to tell you something,” at the same time he said, “You like my shirt?” We both stopped, and I read his shirt.
It was a joke, I did a little rambling and started to walk away, but then he said, “What were you going to tell me?” I turned around and I promise you the filter I had on my words had disintegrated.
I said in a nonstop flow, “Oh, I was just going to tell you that I like you, and I have for a very long time, okay bye.”
As I was turning around to walk away, he smiled or grimaced, I couldn’t tell which and said, “Oh, okay!”
All things considered, I still had my health. Maybe he was just nervous? The next day, Hotty wasn’t at school and I was convinced he skipped town to avoid me. But, he was back that Monday, and nothing happened.
That next day, he was standing by the door after class and as I walked by, he said, “Hey, Waverly, how’s it going?” I was caught off guard for the millionth time and said a flustered “good” before walking away. Emma called me an idiot and I regained my composure for the next day. This time, I said “hey” and we had our usual conversation.
Towards the end, I got bold and asked, “I know this is forward, but do you have any plans for lunch?”
Hotty paused and said, “Oh yeah, I’m actually going to a friend’s house.” ABORT MISSION.
So, I said, “Oh, okay” and started to walk out the door. He stood there awkwardly and said sorry. He was very genuine about it, so I assumed he was telling the truth. Or maybe he wasn’t, who knows.
Nevertheless, I was still very embarrassed for asking in the first place. Time went on, the usual “hey” in the morning, and life kind of got in the way. Not much else happened, except for him coming to sit with me when we had groups for a review game. The mixed messages were strong in this one. My last day of school, I asked Hotty to sign my yearbook, and he wrote a punny joke. So yep, that’s how that ended. Off to college I went, hasta la vista. He never told me he didn’t like me, so not much closure on my part.
Yes, I am aware that no answer is an answer. I was a child, let me live.
We’ll pretend he was still deciding, but it was fun having a crush on a guy that may or may not have flirted back. To be forthright with myself, he was nice, so he must have liked me at least as a friend, which is much more than I can say about paperboy. On in age we go, I have a lot of ground to cover.
L is for the way he looked at me…
Age 19
Okay, so I’ve gotten very carried away with my bad history that started basically when I came out of the womb, which results in a lot of deep feelings on the subject, so just disregard the last chapters and I’ll tell you about the first date I ever had. Let’s start with this statement: It was absolutely, without a doubt, inconsequently horrendous. I am not exaggerating because of course, a single woman like me never would.
His name was Jake, and he figured out my relationship history before I could put on a game face. He was, of course, the type of guy you swipe left on, but I was past desperate and gave it a go. He took me to a restaurant—warning, worst place ever to go on a first date. You are forced to speak and gaze into each other’s eyes the whole night, including those awkward moments when you are about to stuff a forkful of food in your mouth and the other person asks you a question to which you have to pause the fork midway and put it back down and try again at a safer moment. Just me? Okay.
We went back and forth the whole night. He would ask a question, I would answer and repeat. But the questions were really weird, no, he didn’t ask my hobbies or favorite color, those were way too impersonal. He thought it would be a good idea to ask which side of the bed I slept on, what I looked for in a husband, how many kids I wanted, and what my future insurance plan looked like … Insurance! But, it only got weirder: every time I answered with the answer he so desired, he would give a little snort. I’m not talking the one you give when the joke was so funny that if you didn’t snort, you would run out of air and die. No, this was a pure pig snort and he would say: “I-I-Li-Like that I-I-Re-Really do.”
That was my cue to get-err done and get out. Check please! I definitely pulled a bathroom excuse, and had no remorse because at the time, I was a sensitive nineteen year old, and he should be lucky I didn’t meltdown right in the middle of the wor
st dinner date ever. Since then, dating has been something of the past and a contributing reason why I’m still single.
Intermission: My Life in Question
My experience with guys can be summarized as a childish attempt at finding my prince, even at the age when I should have known better. Also, my flirting skills are no more than an elementary attempt at being quirky. Let’s bookmark my brain analysis for another time, because maybe I’m the one with the screws loose.
I feel like there is a certain level of desperation as I have hit rock bottom so many times that the impact of my own attributes has created a new-level bottom, about negative thirty below the initial surface.
That previous statement is the exact reason no hot scientist has come in my direction.
I feel like at a certain point, you have to just throw in the towel. There are so many times where I feel like I’m not worthy. But then I remember I’m just a single sovereign and I should move on in my life, remember how hot I am and my successes. I’m a defense attorney and I worked hard for my position, so at least when a man does come along, (he won’t) I’ll have my own stack of cash to sit on and not have to worry about being a housewife tied to the kids and money. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, it’s just not the life I choose to live.
I often have this thought about how unfair the concept of love really is. You spend all your time, energy, and attention thinking about someone who doesn’t even like you back.
Sometimes, I just think that if I like someone, they have to like me back—it should be a rule—but then where would that leave me? I mean, some guy has had to like me at one point in his life. I’m quite extravagant when you get to know me! When you have that moment when you think you are not good enough, and no one likes you romantically or just in general, that you may never have a significant other … just remember: I’ve gotten to the point where I had to write a book to detail my loneliness so that those thoughts, and hopefully those past rejections, can stop taking up space in my mind. That may be nonsensical, and I’m aware that there are worse things in life than being single. In fact, not having a boyfriend, if anything, makes life a whole lot easier. I’m still going to complain though, it makes things interesting.
“Swine” *said with a polite scoff
Age 22
Shark attack
I feel like no one really understands the depth of my single quality, so let me provide you with another example to show the common disgrace of the male population.
I was at the beach with my girlfriends one day and wanted to swim out deeper while they tanned or sipped the drink of the day. I was in a relaxed state of being in the water so far out, but then I heard whistles and muffled screams and realized over the wide expanse of the ocean that I was the only one in the water. As I precariously made my way back to shore, a grey mass started moving toward me, like something you only see in cheesy science fiction movies. A fin. Yep, I freaked out and then I blacked out.
I’m the type of person who would die from the trauma of seeing a shark up close as opposed to actually being eaten by one. When I came to, the first view I saw was of a lifeguard’s backside and him talking to a fellow lifeguard, claiming that he refused to give me mouth to mouth because he didn’t think it was necessary, seeming as I hadn’t drowned. He also said he wouldn’t kiss me, even if I paid him.
That most definitely wasn’t protocol. I was twenty-two at the time, and I didn’t want mouth to mouth, but of course I was conscious to make that decision. When I wasn’t, according to the literal rules, he should have tried CPR, and mouth to mouth. When he finally turned back around to see me flabbergasted, he hastily explained the situation and turns out the mass coming toward me was a dolphin (go figure) and I passed out shortly before the lifeguard reached me to bring me back to shore. After thanking him for saving me, I marched straight to the recreations office and spieled about the lifeguard and his immaturity. He was fired and that was the other time to add on the list where a guy chose the ultimatum as opposed to touching lips with the likes of me.
Honestly, he was so rude, inconsiderate, and downright disrespectful, but I got over it because you just have to adapt and overcome living this nonmutual-feeling life. It may seem unfair that he got fired, but this guy didn’t want to give me mouth to mouth because that was too much like kissing, he could never “kiss” someone like me. So, what would happen if another similar lady was found actually drowning? Would he have just hoped she’d woken up? To prevent asking that question, he had to go.
If you are working on a job, you have to be professional, and treat others with respect. We have to stop seeing every unfavorable person like a germ. This is the twenty-first century. Some people need to keep their unintelligent thoughts to themselves. Feel free to spread the word to that special someone.
Intermission: It’s All About Me … Get Used To It
At this time, I find it very appropriate to rant on behalf of the human population once more about stupid, unrealistic, incredibly disappointing, and heart-wrenching romantic comedies. Safely stated, they are the worst: they push my expectations through the roof and mess with my heart and I’m sick of it. How unfair is it that all the stories here always have a happy ending, a knight in shining armor, and are so predictable that I can write the plot twist myself? It’s as if writers find the need to show us a future we will never get, and I get so annoyed at the unrealistic story— even the twist that involves the girl being independent and finding she loves herself, which granted is very important, yet highly repetitive. They always end up with someone at the very end of the movie and appeal to our emotional sides.
At this point, I’ve resulted to purely action movies. The bang goes boom and millions are in danger, but if you haven’t noticed, there is an uproar of a romantic story line even in action movies, if the movie is co-ed, there is slight chance that no romance will be involved. Hey, it’s what the common media receivers want, and who am I to judge really, I’m just a lonely, irritable lady with an unpromising romantic future.
Intermission: Me, Of Course
Honestly, I’m starting to get tired of my self-pity. It takes up so much of my free time, I just want to scream. I had a conversation with a friend of mine recently and when I mentioned writing this book, she questioned why it was taking me so long to write it. When I told her how much work it is to write a book, she gave me a smart alec-esque reply so I dropped the conversation. But what no one really knows is how many times I tried to give up on writing my life story. I figure it’s so anticlimactic and boring that no one would really care to read it, but I am starting to realize that the fact that my story is earnest and can relate somewhat to people is what makes it relevant … or maybe it doesn’t.
Being the typical bearer of bad news, I feel it’s crucial to let you all know that fairytales are not real. I will reinstate it in person until I see it with my own eyes. All my friends and their perfect lives got lucky. There was no magic involved and I’m sick of hearing otherwise. Okay, that was histrionic, regardless, I stand by it for now. Oh, and that wasn’t foreshadowing, don’t fret.
Intermission: More on Love
The concept of love is a curious masterpiece. What are the odds that the very word makes me sick? Obviously, not high enough because I use that word for almost everything, but I do make sure to refrain for using it in terms of feeling anything for the opposite sex— excluding my dad, dog, and brother, in that order. I can’t explain my hate for the word or my insistence to use it. What can I say, I’m a hypocrite (more on that later). Life’s not all about love and what happens after. Sometimes, you just have to go with the flow and build your happiness off your own success.
I believe in the concept of intrinsic power. Despite what people think of me, I am not the harsh, bitter and lonely woman my previous words portray, I just simply choose to not engage in the art of sugarcoating. What’s the point when you can get your claim across in fewer words? Living the life that I have, it seems the craze to find a soulma
te has calmed down a little. Independence is something rewarding and appreciative in many aspects, but that also seems to draw the attention of other singles, meaning that eventually, even they get together. But that has yet to happen to me, so I fail to understand the undeniable logic regarding it.
Intermission: Long Distance
Let’s discuss a very controversial topic that tends to either make or break a relationship. A lot of people are cynics and can confirm that long distance lovers never work out. But I think that this is something that every relationship should go through, even if for a short period.
Let me explain. So, you get into a relationship with the guy or girl of your dreams, and then you proceed to spend every waking moment with them. You treat them as your other half and don’t stray from the path of their unforbidden love— that’s the honeymoon phase.
To really test if your relationship is going to work, you have to spend time apart. Heck, it could be for a week or two, just to see how the communication formulates. Sure, it can be a pain, sad and lonely, but you have to remember that, as a human being, you are your own person, not part of a half.
Often times, I see people in relationships who can’t breathe without the other person, and that leaves them putting their own interests, hidden talents, and greatest potential on hold, and that is not beneficial to anyone.
Long distance may seem scary, but if I were ever put in the position to try it out, call me crazy, but I would. Because things that last forever take time and that sounds pretty darn nice to me. Yet, I’m still single. So, honestly, how would I know? Call me the relationship whisperer, I have abundant wisdom on a thing I cannot possess. Quote me.
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