Ok, this should really be titled One of My First Crushes or My First Crush on a Boy at Church or maybe even more appropriately The First Boy I Stalked.
When I was in Fifth Grade (or was it Sixth?), we started going to a new church. We moved from a church of about 30 to 3,000. Somewhere along the way Heather and I both developed a crush for a boy. He. was cute. But very, very unattainable. Since it was such a large youth group (over 200 I think) we didn’t really cross paths except to say we were in the same room 3 times a week. We definitely didn’t run in the same circles. And we didn’t even go to school in the same state so we never saw each other there either. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him in my life. (Heather, correct me if I’m wrong.) So I have no idea how we started liking him. Except did I mention he was cute?
But somehow we obsessed over him.
The sanctuary was large, shaped in an arc with two stories. Heather and I always sat in the second section from the left, first row in the balcony on Sunday evenings. This boy always sat in the second from right section about mid-way on the floor. And for whatever reason, we stared at him the entire time clapping and singing about how God was a Strong Tower hoping he’d look up at us. And every once in a while he would. And I’m very sure now trying to see if the two crazies had quit staring. But how did we poke each other and giggle which further encouraged our stalker-like staring.
I think word eventually got around to him that I liked him. I was told he said he wasn’t interested. I was ugly and I looked like a St. Bernard.
Either that was a lie, he didn’t know what a St. Bernard looked like, maybe I heard through the grapevine wrong or he REALLY thought we were crazy and was exaggerating so we’d leave him alone which was highly likely. Because as much self-confidence as I lacked, I knew I didn’t and don’t look like that. But, I got the drift. I wasn’t pageant material and he wasn’t interested.
But somehow we never quit looking at him, hoping he’d change his mind one day. I left that church when Scott and I got engaged. My family continued to go for a while and I remember going back and visiting and hoping he’d look at me and see how much I did NOT look like a St. Bernard, declare his long-time love for me and carry me off on a white horse. Needless to say my “love” went quite unrequited. Especially since we never, you know, TALKED.
And don’t forget to read about Melissa’s First Crush