meet: the missionary

my 15-year-old self was a bit boy crazy. after i stopped liking ken gee, the crush that i'd had since the fourth grade, i realized the world of possibilities that had been open to me: drummer boy. rollercoaster boy. apricot no, he wasn't fruity and yes, he began "dating" my best friend at the time...or the equivalent of dating at 15-years-old.

then there was the missionary.

he sat next to me in art class for a term. possibly fate. possibly mr. calvin's attempt at matchmaking. i'll never know although i'm pretty sure fate had a hand in it. he was just the quiet, kind of hilarious red-headed boy that i sat next to and competed with at art.

after learning from him in a dead silent art room what a gluteus maximus was i laughed. loud. everybody heard. and after dancing with him at the 9th grade dance man i'm old, he joined us at lagoon day: the day where all the 9th graders got to go to the local amusement park because we were big kids, going off to high school. he told branticus that he had liked me all through art class, and i hadn't even known it. he gave up that day, because he found out i liked rollercoaster boy.

one week later, i liked him. thinking he liked me back, i was on a high. i heard through the grapevine because that was how it worked in 9th grade that he thought i was beautiful at a stake dance we went to. we danced four dances. yes, i remember. i rarely ever forget things. and i wrote it in my journal, so i have a reference.

then he liked another girl.
hard summer not the hardest i've been through.
i carried a torch for him through the first year of high school.
and by some miracle, he came back.

we went on our first date and got attacked by killer sprinklers and looked at the stars. he saved me from a spider. he played your song for me.

then it fizzled out, and i crushed a sonic peppermint that's where he worked: sonic. under my old car in the cul-de-sac by branticus's house. symbolic, i guess.

fast forward to senior year: ironically enough we illustrated for the teen section of our local newspaper together. funny. then i saw him at the ACT at my high school. funnier.

fast forward to last january january 19th: we met up again after he added me as a friend on facebook that previous saturday. we went on two dates. he was sort of my first kiss.

and here we are to today: several letters later and such. a little bit has changed. first of all, i know i'm not attached as much as i once was. he's a sweet guy, but i've met some one really great ones and there's a bar that's been set that wasn't there before. second of all, i'm not sure that two artists would do well in a relationship together. we'd fight all the time. probably.

but, it's a good story. and i'm still waiting to hear back from him since i sent my last letter. his last letter was a bit of a tender mercy, to say the least. the boy has impeccable timing.

so, to the missionary, i say this: hurrah for israel, and, well....i guess we'll see. bon chance.

the missionary. in france.
i may have stolen the picture off facebook.
don't tell.