That One Summer

July 26, 2011 - Monogomist Crusher

Dear Diary,

The plane lurches in the wind, I gasp grabbing grandpa's hand that he has tightened on his arm rest. Surprisingly, he doesn't startled one bit at this. He only pats the top of my hand with his other.

"It's alright, just some turbulence." He says as I pull my hand back embarrassed. So this is what compassion felt like?

"I'm not a good flyer."

"Paris would have been what, an 8 hour flight?"

"I guess that's the one perk in not being able to go."

"What did happen there?" He asks, flipping through an in flight magazine pretending not to care.

It reminds me of Calvin sitting behind the motel counter with his farming magazine, and sends a flutter through me. I know I shouldn't be feeling what I am. I know what I risk when I let myself think of him. Yet, I just couldn't seem to help it. These feelings always seemed to linger and show themselves every time I thought of some little thing.

I've liked other boys before. Actually, exactly two boys. I've always been a monogamous crusher. There was Roberto who I decided I would marry when I met him in the second grade. He was mean and popular, and there would be small instances when he would be really nice to me out of nowhere. I would watch him from a distance and then go home and write his name in my diary. He was the class clown, he always had everyone laughing, and I would think about him constantly right up until he moved to New Mexico in the seventh grade, and even for a while after. While my friends would update each other on their new crush weekly, mine would always stay the same. Until I met Dalton in the eighth grade.

He was similar to Roberto in that he was also the class clown type. He was tall, well liked, and extremely handsome. I talked to him all of maybe four times throughout junior high and high school, but in my mind we talked every day. My friends would beg me to talk to him, bored with my lack of action. But I never wanted to date in high school. To me, the idea of someone having no idea how you felt, to be able to go home and think about them and imagine them confessing their love to you was way more romantic than actually going through with it. It was all rush and no risk. No chance for them to turn out not to be who they are in your fantasies. My friends couldn't understand, but they were the ones crying about their boyfriends every night, I was the one focusing on getting into Grace Forever. Grace whatever now.

I knew throughout high school that one day I'd be across the world and never live out any of my fantasies with Dalton. And I was completely fine with that.

And now there was Calvin, and he seemed so much more real than the boys I've liked before. Having feelings for someone based on actually knowing them, it was a whole new thing to me. It was terrifying, and even more reason not to be pursued.

Grandpa glances at me through the side of his eye, then returns to his magazine, perhaps wondering if I was going to ignore his question all together.

I clear my throat.

"Uncle Ger didn't tell you?" I know Grandpa and uncle Ger don't like to talk, but wouldn't he have had to explain why he was suddenly leaving me with them for all this time?

"Your uncle Gerald," he starts, getting that same look uncle Ger got when I asked about my grandpa, "sent me an email saying he needed a place for you to stay. There was not much detail in it."

"That's all he said?" I shouldn't even be surprised anymore.

"He also made a snide comment about finally getting my way. A little too late for that."

"What do you mean? Getting your way how?"

"With having you live with me. Although you're an adult now. It's not exactly what I wanted. Not that I'm not happy with having you here. I'll take what I can get."