Untouchable

Past

"One day you are going to look at someone and say, "I survived." There is great satisfaction in that. Even more if the person staring back comes from your mirror."

- Courtney Peppernell, Pillow Thoughts

"U." The message read. A simple short meaning to it. "Me," I texted back, "are you referring to me?" 

This was one of the very things that impacted who I am today. This boy, James, this text, this was perfect. But it wasn't. The timing wasn't. I was younger, about 10. He was a little older than me, but still, he liked me. Age 10 was too early to have a big crush on someone, too early for me to even decide what I wanted for breakfast. 

I had been talking to him for a few months. He mistook me for a girl. He liked me as a girl, not as a dude, but it was almost like he didn't want to believe it. Late November, just after Thanksgiving, when finally he spit out who he liked. "U." James texted me. I thought, "What?" because, in a way, I liked him too. He was nice to me, cared about me, talked to me, and made me laugh. I said I was young and immature. A week after he told me, I forgot to talk to him. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a year. I felt bad, but it wasn't my fault. I forgot. 

Right when I entered 6th grade, I saw James again for the first time in a while. He was the same height as me, brown hair, and blue eyes. I didn't know what to think of him. Two months passed and one dumb October night, I couldn't get his eyes out of my head. For the first time, someone was stuck in my head. I wrote down in a journal, saying I couldn't stop thinking about him, that he was cute. It wasn't until December that I finally said something. I mistook infatuation for love and told him I thought I was in love with him. James said he really appreciated the sentiment and that he hoped we could just be good friends. I remember reading the message and my heart dropping. I felt so much at that time. I cried for a while. I began to hate his guts. I publicly showed my displeasure towards him, and a year later I even tried talking to him again. I tried giving him candy in his locker, I tried giving him notes, and he didn't say anything. Eventually I stopped. I said to myself that this was the dumbest thing I've ever done and finally ended this 3-year on-off thing. Liking James was one of the most interesting parts of my middle school career. 

Now, he and I are friends. He is the most stupid, racist person I've met. He's just joking obviously, but occasionally, I'd ask for advice. This specific time, I mentioned having a crush and he immediately asked who. I made him guess all the boys in our grade and he didn't get it. He was confused so finally, I fessed up and told him I like a 6th grader in the drama program. He guessed Oli, so I had to tell him. 

James asked me almost every other day how it was going with "OG," he called him. I told him the most I could, when Oli held my hand, called me cute, and said he didn't want me to leave. He made jokes and told me that I should just subtly ask if he wanted to hang out. I, of course, opposed that idea and said no. The conversations were mostly him trying to persuade me to text him. 

Being friends with James is honestly hilarious. I liked being his friend, and I like it better than thinking about being his lover. 

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