June 10, 2025
"What do you want from me?" I incredulously asked.
This blog is based on one of my random thoughts when I was a teenager.
She came to my house and asked me for things I couldn't provide. She was a nice girl. I've known her for about five years. I mean, we hadn't said much to each other in those five years, and suddenly, she wanted to be my best friend- dang. I have been her brother's best friend for as long as I have known her! For some reason, after longing to be with her, I was skeptical of why she wanted to be my friend. She was offended when I asked "what she wanted" from me. Still, she didn't realize how much I loved her. I felt as weak as Ross from the NBC hit television show Friends, who longed for Rachel! It's weird when one loves someone as much as I have her, and they act as if you're a hindrance, and suddenly, they start asking about yourself, seemingly out of the blue. Of course, I'm going to question her motive.
After admitting I got weirded out by her presence, I could not have been more excited! However, her essence freaked me out mentally, especially when she came into the house and asked me different questions regarding myself and life. My judgment was very clouded. Because I was nervous, I would keep looking at my watch. So much so that she noticed and asked:
"Why do you keep looking at your watch?"
I cautiously responded, "I don't know." Then she said, "Well, if you look at your watch again, I'm gonna stab you with a fork from this table."
I liked the aggressiveness, but needless to say, I never looked at my watch again. Her face mesmerized me, watching her lips talk to me, not taking anything she said in; I just stared at her lips and occasionally gazed into her eyes. It was psycho-like behavior, but she didn't seem to mind as she chatted away. Man, thinking she did not mind me staring into her eyes is a typical thing a psycho would think to themself.
After she snapped her fingers to grab my attention, she chuckled and said, "I don't wanna be your best friend; not trying to be friendly. I'm telling you how I weirded out by you and my brother."
"OK, so we're not becoming friends. Are we just interacting so that we may break the ice and start becoming friends?"
She kept talking past the question, ignoring what I just asked her. I thought to myself- I don't know; is being friends what you're trying to convey to me mentally? I'm confused; this internal talking is breaking me.
She said she got tired of me staring at her. She thought she confronted me rather than call the police. On that note, I apologized, complimented her on her beautiful eyes, smooth skin, and hair, and said I'd never do it again.
"Why do you keep apologizing to me?" she asked.
"You're going to call the cops on me! I didn't think this infatuation was that serious!"
"I'm not going to actually call the police. I meant metaphorically. And what infatuation?"
Is this idea of our conversation being a potential friendship and then a possible relationship even worth all this drama? Well, I do love her!
I loved her so much that I didn't understand that I crossed the line, however, she didn't understand how attractive I was to her. I found myself to be a good-looking guy. I couldn't understand why she didn't find me a little bit beautiful. I was docile, kind, understanding and confident enough to move out of my safety zone to listen and learn. I was also willing to be vulnerable. All this had to be true because my mom has told me so.
"I have to go now," she said. "My brother wants to see you later. Call me when you come over. Maybe I will see you then, too."
I walked her to the front door, and as she left, she turned back and kissed me slightly on the lips. OK, I will admit, I missed her lips and awkwardly kissed the upper lip and nose region.
"Now we have broken the ice," she said.
I locked the door, and I watched her walk away through the window. She went down my pathway to the sidewalk, stepped off the curve across the street, entered her driveway, and returned to her door. I told myself she wasn't serious if she did not look back. She entered her front door and closed her door. "Dang," I thought.
But then I saw her peek through the window to see if I was looking at her, and as my eye connected with her eyes, I knew I was screwed. She was watching me, watching her! Teenager angst is a long-term memory.
801 words
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