Bit of a story to this one.
One time, back in high school, I had an unbridled love for this
woman named Maria, who, might I add, was three years older than
this little freshman was at the time. She was my sunshine, my
starlight, my first love. Sh was all my adolescent brain could
think about (If you know what I mean).
Anyways, I had made the mistake of telling my friend Steve about my
love for Maria. Being the naive ninth grader I was, expected
confidentiality from him, also a ninth grader. Without my
knowledge, he told someone, who told someone, who told me that he
had heard that beautiful Maria had liked me.
Again, being the freshman I was, I decided to follow up on this by
following her (in a totally non-creepy way... Right?). Of course,
as a romantic gesture, I had written her a poem confessing my love,
I had even bought her flowers.
Anyways, I had a big plan to meet up with her at the end of the
day, only to ride off into the distance in her 1983 Toyota Tercel
station wagon. Romantic, right? I knew where she lived because I
had been there as a kid (my brother was friends with her), so I was
going to wait until she got home from a party and go up to her as
she was going in and confess my love. It was the perfect
So, I got to here house, I must've walked a mile, flowers in hand.
I knew I had to make it a surprise that I was there, so, against
better judgement, I hid in one of the bushes and waited for her to
come back. When that shitty, shitty station wagon pulled up and she
got out, I knew what I had to do. I prepared to get out of the
bush, and, just as I was doing so, I realized that it wasn't her
car that had pulled up. Another guy got out of the car, and went to
her on the hood, and they started flirted and making out on the
So there I was, fourteen years old, in a bush of my love's house
who had been taken by another man, practically crying because I
didn't know what to do. I decided I had to run, run all the way
home, but I knew I couldn't until they were done practically
humping on his car.
An eternity and five minutes later, he finally left, without seeing
me, might I add. So, I booked it, not even thinking to pick up the
damn flowers or love poem. It was already too late when I realized
I forgot them, so the next morning, I went back to her, yet again,
to save myself and get the flowers. But, much to my dismay I had
discovered my worst nightmare. The flowers and poem weren't there.
My face got red and I filled with embarrassment and I walked. I
walked a mile all the way back to my house. And that was the end of