May 072014

Tonight I received a note on Facebook from an old High School “chum”.  I put that in quotes because I can count my real friends from HS on about one finger, but I did know who he was.

This guy was a classmate of mine. With a graduating class of less than 30, I knew who he was and had several classes with him over the years. But we’d never really spoke.

He was semi-popular. He wasn’t the most popular, but he wasn’t without friends. His main friends included the two guys who physically beat me in Junior High, one of which beat me every day. The other guy only beat me once, but that was enough. He was scary and I wouldn’t have put it past this guy to really mess me up if I pressed him. His other friend, he had one more that I never interacted with at all which is a pretty mountainous feat in such a small town, but being sheltered by my parents helped that cause a lot… anyway his other friend was in the “slow” classes. He wasn’t stupid, but book-learning wasn’t his forte. So this group of 4 guys.. I never really had any ambition to get to know, mostly out of self-preservation.

Despite that, I did sort of have a crush at one point on Chuck. He was (probably still is) a fantastic artist. The kind that could be making a living selling paintings to galleries in New York. It was this talent of his that got my attention.  As I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, I only tend to “fall for” men once I’ve seen them be “awesome”. And painting/drawing was Chuck’s awesome.

At the time, I was attempting to be an “artist” too. And I had talent, but nothing near the scope of Chuck. I wanted to fuck him and kill him from jealousy of his talent.

Anyway, this is the note he sent me:

“You might not know this but I always avoided you in high school because I thought then that you were too smart to have anything to do with me. I think I saw you in GI once and I said “Hi” and if it was you just walked by me without expression.

I know I hung out with a bunch of dipsticks in High school.

You’re a regret. I wish I would have known you better.”

I was bowled over. Never had I imagined that he would have felt this way. Never.  And I would have picked 100 other “faults” for why people avoided me, never because they thought I was too smart.

I do remember avoiding him at a club a few years later. He was with the one that took the “slow” classes.

Had I known then what he’d messaged me tonight, I probably would have stopped and talked to him… rather than pretend he didn’t exist.

Instead, I just assumed that he was going to make fun of me.

My HS years were not what I’d call fun. They were torture.  I lived in a small town with people who didn’t get me, raised by parents who pretty much made it their mission to alienate me from my peers.

My few interactions with dating with-in that town were not pretty. In 6th grade, one of the boys (a friend of Chucks but not a close friend, not one of the group of 4 of them) called me at home and asked me out. I wasn’t sure how to respond, but I politely told him no. He soooooo was not my type.

The next day at school, he told everyone about the prank he played on me.. making me think he liked me, and how I fell for it. I was teased mercilessly for months.

Then there was the beatings, and the guys taking much fun in calling me fat. Even getting a drink from the water fountain was rife with teasing “water buffalo”. But mostly the guys ignored me.

In HS the only guys that would ask me out were the new to town losers or social rejects. One of which was probably a great guy. He seemed sweet and wasn’t bad looking.. except his teeth were all rotten. If it hadn’t been for his teeth I’d have dated in him a hot minute.. but the thought of kissing him made me wretch so I turned him down.

So after years of being teased by Chuck’s friends, and pretty much every other guy in HS, when I did finally see him at a club a couple  years after graduation… I was more afraid of interacting with him at all than anything else.  I imagined the stories he’d tell his friends and everyone else in town.

At no point, would I have ever though to consider that he would actually like me. I had too much proof to contrary. It’s sad really.

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