Letters To My Men

Fried Noodles

The nickname originates from the time I saw him by the window eating fried noodles. No one but my closest friends have ever heard about it. His real name will remain a secret because the things I will tell you are so personal that I will allow him to keep this one thing to himself. To him I attribute the title of "the one that got away" but to make things easier for you, he was the second man in my life. Here's the story.

I still remember the date I realized I had a crush on him. The 23rd of September, 2016. The school year had just started, I had broken up with my ex just three months ago. We were at the mall, waiting for the bus to come. I was trying to avoid two guys who were making fun of me. Then it happened. He defended me. Being so vulnerable at the time, I fell for his actions. We were not friends, not even acquaintances, we had never spoken, but the fact that he took 5 seconds of his life to defend me from the other two idiots meant the world to me. I told my friends, and I remember that one of them clearly warned me; "Do not raise any hopes, he is weird and does not want to do anything with girls". I nodded as if I had understood her warning, but in reality, I ignored her.

As I mentioned, we did not know each other. But damn I was determined to change that. I built my way up. I took the courage to talk to him, first in person, surrounded by friends. Then I decided to text him in private. In what seemed years but really, were just a couple of weeks, we became very good friends. At least I thought so. We would talk everyday, for hours, about things that matter and things that don't. I would convince him to go out, with friends, by ourselves. He was clueless, and to be honest, so was I.

Christmas break was the happiest times. He would call me when he was bored and I would stop everything I was doing to listen to his sleepy voice. Damn his sleepy voice. It's one of those that you'd love to wake up to, the ones that without trying, captivate you in a stupid teenage fantasy of love and lust. The reality is that, he was a total nerd. He had never kissed a girl before, let alone touched a girl. At his 18 years, he had the experience of a 6th grader. But I loved that, because I also did not have a whole lot of experience with boys, and I wanted a novice to be my first time. He loved to play video-games, he hated going outside. He was smart, he was interesting. And fuck, he was attractive. But he didn't know that. He was very insecure. And I tried to help him deal with it, complimenting every aspect of him. He didn't get the hints.

I knew that he would never make the first move. I had always heard that it is the man the one that has to ask the girl out, the one that has to try the hardest. But damn it, I knew he would never do it, and as the days passed, my desire to be with him grew larger. He became an obsession. I would dream about him, and talk about him all the time. He would occupy 70% of my daily thoughts. I fantasized about him. First about innocent things, then about the dirtiest. I had such a perfect ideal of him that I think I eventually fell more in love with it, rather than he himself.

His birthday was coming soon. I had to get the perfect gift. I knew what he wanted, and I was so willing to give it to him. But my dad would have killed me if he found out I had spent 1.500 dollars on shoes. Still, I bought him shoes, just 1.400 dollars cheaper. I bought him the vans that he also told me once he wanted. Never had I spent 100 dollars on anyone, not even myself. He said he liked the them, but to date, I have never seen him wear them.