March 4th, 2009

Ice King, Adventure Time

Remembering my First Crush or Something

Thanks to yet another anime show called Love Hina, I have been forced to do some self-examination about my young childhood. In short (I will probably do a review of the series later) the basic plot of the show is that a young boy and girl are building in a sandbox and she kisses him. After that, she tells him about how two people end up together if they go to Tokyo University together, and that she wants to see him there. Afterwards, they pinky swear and she has to go away. The series takes place several years later about the guy trying to get in Tokyo U. Its a wonderful series and I encourage you to see it.

Anyways, there is just something so sweet about trying to live up to a childhood promise and romance that gets me, and got me to thinking, what about myself? What childhood crushes do I have? That is where I remember my first crush, even though I didn't think of it as that at the time.

Rewind the clocks to back when I was in the first grade. Long ago, right? I had a lot of friends back then, and they were guys. We liked to pal around as guys do in the first grade. Anyways, there was this girl I knew that I thought of just like one of the guys. Her name was Erin (MAN, why are there SO MANY ERINS/AARONS IN MY LIFE????), and we were pretty good friends, and we would talk. It was very nice. Then on the horizon comes another guy, Justin, and there was, quite hilariously, a love triangle forming at that time. We would fight over her attention and affections. I laugh as I think about this.

Time goes on, and as if fate itself was pulling us around, we got separated a little later to different classes. Justin got her one year, I got her the next. I remember missing her, a little more than I would miss another one of my other friends. I would still see her at recess, but it felt more distant than I would like. Then came the fourth grade, and a rather sad part of my life. One day I came in, and her desk was empty. Empty, just like a part of me was. Again, I had no idea what this feeling meant, but it didn't feel good. Our teacher announced that she had moved away. That feeling grew more. It took me quite a while after that to completely get over it.

That was not the tragic part. Do you want to know the tragic part?

I think she moved back.

And I never said a word to her.

Fast forward to high school. I saw someone who looks vaguely familiar. She looked different, but stood out. I then saw her face, and heard her name. I then had those memories flood back like a monsoon. It was her. I don't know what happened to her, but somehow she was behind a grade, maybe due to grades or some transfer problems (another friend of mine fell in that trap). I thought about what to say to her. Should I act like she never left? Would she remember me? How did she really feel all those years ago? Did she not feel the same about me back then? Would it be too creepy for some random guy to go up and say, "Hey, I remember..."? Were those memories accurate? I was, and still am to some extent, scared.

Everytime I think about those memories, I smile and frown at the same time. Maybe it was just a innocent childhood infatuation. Perhaps it could still carry on now like Hollywood would like to suggest. Maybe its all a lie. I still see her from time to time. When I see her face, those memories come flooding back like a monsoon. Its her. And not only do I remember those halcyon days of playing with toys and puzzles on a wooden table with a smooth black top, some chips taken out of it, but I think, and still personify that guy in high school, scared, hiding behind some mask, some clique. And by the time I compose myself, she's gone.

And that familiar feeling comes back.

The Allengator