At least, that’s how I remember it. My best friend in college said she would write a song about my “five minute crushes” and while it is true that there were people I’d be very intense about and then flit away, that wasn’t always how it went down.
I remember the first time I saw him. I was a freshman in high school. School hadn’t officially begun yet, I was in band so we had early clinics with upperclassmen who put us through drills to get us in shape for marching band. There were many attractive people, many with cars, but it wasn’t until the full band arrived that I saw him.
When I told one of the upperclassmen of my attraction, she gave me a kind of puzzled look. He wasn’t the tallest. He was pale, dark hair, blue eyes, freckles. His skin wasn’t clear. He wore all white because it was more practical in the heat and he didn’t much care that he may have looked peculiar. Like me, he was a percussionist. He stood with a slightly cocky air playing with his drumstick, smirking to himself while I sat on the ground watching him haloed by the sun. That’s what I think of when I remember him--that moment.
I impetuously, and with encouragement from an upperclassman who I think kind of wanted to see me fall on my face, asked him to Homecoming and he said no. I went with someone else.
In spite of the fact that I dated others freely, we bantered and flirted constantly. When I needed a ride, he drove me. I may or may not have invented reasons to go places I didn’t need to be and he may or may not have indulged me knowing I was contriving reasons to hang out with him. The situation had all the makings of an epic and lasting romance. Right up until we went on an actual date. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=El1kgCqD7Xk
Two years of flirting, dancing around each other and my being in and out of relationships. There’s no drama like band drama, so of course my loss of virginity was reported to all who cared to listen. There may have been part of me who worried that I was damaged goods. Or it was just the genuine pressure I felt after all of the build up, but I flubbed the date. Hard.
I was nervous and distant. I remember him arriving, introducing him to my mom and dad. His commenting on our big fish tank. Drakkar Noir, which he usually wore but it was in fuller effect. I don’t remember where we went or what we did. Then, back home, in front of the door. The time for the kiss. I bolted. <img src=”https://clancynacht.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/tulips.jpg”>
I avoided him for weeks--no small feat, though it was made easier since we had been moved to different bands. Still. I was humiliated. I missed leaning against the piano in the practice room while he played Moonlight Sonata. I gazed at the remains of the tulips he’d bought me for my birthday because, “What’s better than roses on your piano? Tulips on your organ!” I was still sniffling from the cold we’d passed back and forth because of proximity.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DwjwDpUams
I was ready to try again.
We had a class together and he sat behind me. I decided it was time to break the ice and turned around. We flirted very cautiously. Then, a girl who sat next to us asked him how his date with another girl went.
In the time we’d danced around each other, as far as I knew he never had a girlfriend. Or dated. Suddenly there was a girl.
I’ve been told I have a very expressive face. I try to control it and certainly, in that moment, I was crushed and there was, what felt like an eternity where I thought for sure heartbreak was audible and I’m sure my expression reflected that. After a beat, I did my best to smile and congratulate him. The girl, a friend of the one he was dating, was sure to go over what a great girlfriend she would make. She sounded like all of the things I was not, most notably, a stable individual.
How could I compete with that?
Though he begged me not to shut down and ditch him again, I felt like his path was clear. This girl was wonderful and I… I was a mess. And I can’t front. I was. Too young, too nervous, too scared. I’d had a few short-lived relationships and they a measure of heartbreak to them, but no one had shattered me like this.
I look back on the situation with both fondness and horror. I wish I’d been strong enough to maintain our friendship, but I feared I’d interfere. I tried for a time, but friends of the girlfriend felt that I did interfere and I believed that the loving thing for me to do for him was to back off. As it turned out, it wasn’t. That poor choice haunts me.
As much as I wish I could give that boy and girl a happy ending, the pain and romance of the situation is something I draw from when I write. Heartbreak helped to build who I am and many a tale I spin.
While heartbreak features in every story I write on some levels, I’ll have a new story out on March 10, 2015 called Pride and Justice. I wrote it, it includes mystery men and a zombie crisis.
A percentage of the earth's population has transformed into surprisingly functional zombies who returned to work the next morning as if they weren't undead monstrosities. Justice Kinkead, officer in an elite zombie fighting force, gets called out when good zombies go bad, putting down the brain cravers and safeguarding the new economy. After several of his partners succumb to unfortunate deaths, Justice figures he'll go it alone...until he's assigned a mysterious and sexy new partner, Merlin Pride, who seems to know more about the zombies' origins than he's letting on.
Merlin also seems to sense that Justice needs a good fucking, but it's complicated: Justice still lives with his undead ex-boyfriend. Can Justice make peace with his past? And if he does, should he take a chance on a man who may have something to do with destroying civilization as they knew it?
They get a much happier and more magical ending than I do. Check it out!
Clancy Nacht
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