Ahhh! There is nothing like eating Raisin Bran, for lunch at 1:00 in the afternoon, with a spoon that was once caught in the garbage disposer, and savoring a stolen Hostess cupcake, while blogging about nothing important. Days are often quite like this, in life of a teenage romantic. I could write a book on all the odd habits, and stupid things I do, because I am a romantic. Being a romantic is pretty simple, if you are a unique person. You just have to love loving people, which I do rather extensively. I wanted to fall in love since I was eight years old. I watched a Danielle Steel's movie with my mom called Zoya. It interested me in two ways, there was the history in it about the Russian Revolution, that I enjoyed, and the obvious romantic reason.
After that, I was a romantic forever. I started crushing on boys when I was in fourth grade. Of course, back then it was really nothing to get worked up over. There was a boy I kind of liked, but it never went farther than that. There were a few others in fifth and sixth grade, but in all honesty, It actually took a lot for me to like a guy. The odd thing about me is that, besides the fact that I am a romantic; I am also a realist. You would think the two together would clash, but they work pretty well for me. For instance, I know better than to fall in love with a singer or a movie star, or even some cute guy, that really doesn't have anything in common with me. I just know better. There is one exception to that rule, and the only time I have fallen really hard for someone I shouldn't have. It was one of those love-at-first-sight deals. This was the biggest, most secretive, and dangerous crushes a girl could have.
Yeah, I thought I liked boys before, but I was way wrong. It wasn't just his good looks, or his popularity. It was simply how nice he was. He had personality, and maturity like no one I have ever met. It took me three years to get over this crush. Three years of crying myself to sleep, and thinking about him. When he got hurt and had to go on crutches, I would sometimes hold the door for him, and carry his stuff to the next class. I was sure to never seem overly excited to help him and be near him. We had a few things in common, but whenever we were alone in a room, it just felt awkward. Sometimes he talked to me, usually he was quiet. But, he was always polite, and smiling. The one time I was helping him with homework in Health class, (ok it was more like I gave him the answers to most of the question.) and our elbows touched. I felt like an electric current had gone through me, and I practically jumped out of my skin. Then there was the time I had been walking with my backpack open and all my books fell out. My friends laughed at me and walked away. I was frustrated and embarrassed, but when I reached down to start collecting my stuff, he leaned down too, and helped pick up my books and hand them to me. At the time, he was on crutches too! My friends walked away and the boy on crutches stopped to help. See, this was why I liked the kid. He is and always will be a sweet guy, but I had to move on. I still think about him a lot, sometimes when I close my eyes I see his face laughing and smiling. I have to prepare myself, because in a few short weeks I have to go back to school and face those blue eyes again. Hopefully, the summer made me stronger, but you just never know.