It's a Love Story

2005: Sophomore year - Homecoming Dance

I don't know why but I let it slip to my friend that I want to go to homecoming with this guy I sort of know. And being miss independent, my friend encourages me to ask him myself. I don't mind the idea actually; it wouldn't be the first time I would put myself out there for a guy. How hard could it be to ask a guy to the dance? It's not like guys have any guts to do that sort of thing anymore (since most guys I know who are girlfriend-less aren't really trying to find a date to the dance). So okay. Yeah. I'll ask him to homecoming.

End of the school day and I see him by his locker. My friend is with me. "Go!" she whispers to me. I freeze. "You know what, I don't know if I really want to..." she doesn't let me get away with it. She promptly pushes me in the direction of the boy and I realize I have no choice but to explain why I am suddenly in his personal bubble. I somehow spew out the words, "was wondering if you wanted to go to homecoming with me?" and he blushes a deep red. He says he's not sure (code for no) but will get back to me later. I remain hopeful.

The next week I find out I was not the only girl to ask him to homecoming (apparently a lot of girls have the confidence to ask guys out) but it doesn't matter. He likes another girl. And after telling the rest of us no, he will not even be going to homecoming, I find out he asks her to the dance shortly after.

I'm offended and pissed. I act angry. But really, I'm not that upset that he said no to me and asked another girl instead. I am upset because I don't understand what's wrong with me. I don't understand why he didn't want to go with me to homecoming. I don't understand why no guy has asked me to homecoming. Even when I try to give myself the change, no one is willing to give me one. I go home, lock myself in the bathroom, and cry.

2008: Spring/Summer - Evil Coach

I'm exhausted and confused. I have just talked to my high school about my coach hitting on me and I don't know what to feel. It needed to be done, but he's still my coach. I still have this mad crush on him. I am still somewhat hopeful that if he wanted to hook up with me, he must like me. Maybe this was his attempt at making things work.

It takes me awhile but as time goes on I realize my coach had no intentions of being with me the way I had hoped: a relationship. He wanted me like a booty call. It really sinks in when his fiancee calls me wondering what had happened. He had told me he had told her and she was infuriated. Instead he tried to continue the relationship with her and every time she questioned him about me, he said that she was crazy and nothing happened. The latter is true. Nothing happened. Yet all summer I wondered if I had let something happen if maybe my dreams would've worked out.

I'm happy nothing worked out with us. I'm happy I didn't go over. But I feel miserable. The one guy I trusted, the one guy I admired and respected, saw me as nothing more than a booty call. He only wanted to use me. Not even the guy I think is the best wants to be with me. I feel hopeless.

2008: First year at Ball State

He would be transferring. Right as I'm getting to know him, it would be the last time I'd probably see him. At least for a long while.

His name is Collin and he's a Christian, a musician, and one of the sweetest guys I know. I met him on a Cru retreat earlier this semester but didn't get to know him until December. Right when I learned that he was transferring to IU.

We meet for breakfast on the last day of finals and our conversation lasts for a few hours. We talk about everything. I tell him my dream to write for the Rolling Stone; he tells me his passion for music. We talk about Eric Clapton and God. But our conversation comes to an end because he has one more final to take. Unwillingly I leave.

My friend Joe texts me and begs me to have lunch with him. My mom will be here at one to pick me up for winter break; I won't see him for three weeks. I agree, even though I really just want to go home and feel sorry for myself.

We sit at lunch and I let it all out. I gush to him about how great Collin is, how unhappy I am that he's leaving, how much I wish it could in some miracle turn into a relationship, even though we still don't know one another that well. Joe sits and listens. He doesn't say much.

So I turn the topic to him. "Who do you like, Joe?" "A few people," he says. I'm nosy; I want specific names. We're both on run club so I figure it has to be some girls from there. I take a guess at our friend Liz; I knew he liked her before. He says he still does like her, but there's someone else. I start naming every girl I can think of. Erica? Chelsea? Rachel? Bobbi? The list goes on. He responds with "she's pretty" and "she's really nice" but they're all inevitably no. I dwindle the list down to everyone but one: me.

It suddenly dawns on me that the other girl must be me but I'm too afraid to ask. I keep pushing him, hoping he'll spill the name and especially hoping that it won't be mine. Eventually time runs out and I need to return to my dorm before my mom arrives. We say our goodbyes and I walk back.

On my way back I get a text: Hint #1: She has blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. Hmm. I am blonde. I have blue eyes. Oh boy.

Another text: Hint #2: It's you!

It's cute. But it's Joe. He's nice and we get along and all, but he's just a friend. He's not a musician; he's a math major. I just don't feel that way. A phone call a week later and I explain: we're just friends.

2009: May - Last day of school

I'm sitting in my J102 class listening to the final presentations being given and I swear it can not go any slower. I have a limited time table and I'm in a panic. This needs to end because I'm on a mission. And I must succeed.

This semester has been one hell of a roller coaster. Joe and I have become best friends; and while he remained crazy about me (his own words) I could not make up my mind about him. I wanted to kiss him on his birthday. But I didn't like him sitting next to me on a car trip cause I didn't feel comfortable around him. All semester I couldn't make up my mind. 2am texts were sent to his phone telling him "I think I like you", while the next week he'd get a 2am text saying "We can only be friends." I've put the boy through emotional hell and I hate myself. Especially now.

Six weeks before school ended I decided I would put an end to the misery. I told him I wanted to be single during the summer. I told him to move on. And after changing my mind a thousand times, he listened. He's pursuing another girl. And up until now I have been fully supportive. Until 3am last night when I realized: I want him to be with me.

Class finally ends and I walk as fast as I can without running to his dorm. This time I'm the one begging him to have lunch with me. We go to one of the campus dining rooms and buy food, but I can barely eat. I start rapidly talking. Talking so fast that I can't keep up with myself. Joe laughs at how fast I'm talking. I'm failing. I'm trying to explain that I change my mind, and it won't be changed again but why should he believe me? I'm begging, literally begging, for a second (or more like 15th) chance.

He can't give it to me. We made a deal we would not date each other. We made a deal we'd wait until fall. He can't trust my feelings. If we feel the same way in the fall, well, we'll take it from there.

He walks with me back to my room and as a pathetic attempt to get him to change his mind, I try to kiss him. He pulls away (how embarrassing). And I panic. Because I realize I really have fucked things up this time. There is no remedying the situation. I pushed him away and he's over me.

Until he changes his mind, and kisses me. And while we stand there in a hug, I can hear his heart pounding through his chest. And I think to myself: "I still have a chance."

Today

Summer of 2009 was by far the worst summer of my life. I lost 10 pounds, not because I'm a runner (I barely ran at all) but because I slept all day and ate nothing. I would stay up til 3am and cried almost every night. I felt sick to my stomach all the time. I literally hated myself. I realized I lost the one person I actually thought I should be with and it was my own fault. Not to mention, I was losing my best friend.

I don't regret that summer though because I learned what my true feelings were. No more changing my mind. No more chasing other guys. I tried dating over the summer, only to end every night on the phone with Joe.

By some miracle things worked out in the fall. There was one odd night where all but two of our friends were gone. And when those two friends left to go to parties it was just us. With nothing to do but to have the same conversation we'd had a thousand times before. This time around though, we would both be on the same page.

One year since then and I swear I'm the happiest girlfriend alive. He doesn't play the guitar. He's not a writer (in fact, he hates it). He has no desire to live in NYC. But he treats me like gold. He makes me laugh. He doesn't freak out when I cry (which happens more than I'd like). He's nothing like the man I once dreamed of dating; but he is more than I could've ever imagined.

I owe God a big fat THANK YOU because I'm finally living what I was once afraid I would never experience. It took some time, tested my patience and drained me of many tears, but here I am. Maybe I'm ridiculous. I am only 21. What do I know about love? Only what I've experienced. And I hope what I'm living only continues. And I hope others can have the same experience.

So there you have it. After a blog full of hatred, here is my blog about love. My little love story. Hopefully this is only the beginning of it.