It's funny how you can remember things forgotten.

I was laying in bed yesterday morning and the vivid memory of a 2nd-4th grade crush crashed upon me, and even more so that terrible trip where he found out.
I have always been secretive about the people for whom I have a great fondness, a crush, those who I just can't keep my eyes off of. I kept this crush secret from even my best friends for two years. That is saying something because most people do not learning of my crushes until it's something long past gone, brought up in a casual conversation. They get the impression that a flame still burns when it has long since gone out.
This boy's name was Matt Sears. He had dark black hair, these keen sharp eyes, and a relaxed but tough appeal, chunky-ish but strong. I first saw him in my second grade class and a very killer crush started. I made him the bad guy in all of my day dreams, that we were mortal enemies. I chased him on the play ground. I had a coat that was exactly like his and used to imitate how he would stand.

We were both in 4-H and the summer after 4th grade both of us went on a trip to Ottawa together. I had some friends and other girls go with me.
Somehow that I don't remember it got out to him on that trip that I had a crush on him. It was probably one of the worst days of my young life that I can ever remember. We were on a boat tour at the time and the most that I remember is retreating to a plastic chair and folding over myself, eyes staring blankly at the grey floor, out through the railing at the water swishing by. I was completely despondent to everyone. I remember hands tugging on my shoulders, trying to pull me out of it. I couldn't be. He wasn't supposed to know. It had been kept a secret for three years and I was crushed.
It was a fun trip but that event killed all of it for me. I consider that summer to be the summer that ended the crush.

That was the summer that mom offered my brother Nic and I to be homeschooled. She had offered the year before and I had said no. This time I accepted. Truth be told I think a big part of it was that I didn't want to go back to school, didn't want to see Matt. I didn't want to face the awkwardness- the shame -of knowing what he knew about me, of knowing that the rest of my class would probably know now. "Oh look, it's that weird girl that has a crush on Matt Sears."

I saw him periodically at 4-H events and things.
Still, I didn't really see him again until I went back to high school in 2003. Now I had resurfaced in to the social world. Going back in to that world, seeing him regularly I still felt that shadow of awkward when I passed him in the hallways. I didn't have a crush on him but I noted that he had remained attractive, farm boy as he was. He was handsome; a face that hadn't changed much since the 2nd grade. He was tall, muscled, semi-preppy with the same dark eyes that could make a girl's heart skip a beat.
But I still couldn't help believe that when he looked at me it was with a pierce of disgusted, a "stay away" look, a "It's that freak from the 4th grade that has a crush on me". I prayed to not ever have to have a class with him. I know it was my shame, my shyness still lingering from the 4th grade but it was what I felt, imagined or not.

Being in college now I forget that. I am in a separate world from the one I grew up in. I am a "different person". It was a strange thing to remember.
But it is also continues to be very true of me. I dread people finding out who I "like". I keep it as secret as can be even though to friends it is probably more obvious now. I am extremely hard pressed to admit my crushes. It would be like exposing me. I would much rather be silent, to live with my fantasy rather than face the harsh reality of a hard rejection, of a let down that I knew would happen anyway. As strong and as fearless as I make myself out to be I am very scared of things like that. Call it cowardice, it's how I work.

Occasionally I get a streak of strength, of power, when I feel completely confident in my game. I come on strong, secure, mind focused and body completely game for a chase. But that usually happens early on or never. If it does happen it tends to fizzle out, my determination coming off as scary. If by the time the person realizes I was interested in them and wants to play I've long since burned out of any will, the cheetah uninterested post sprint. For those that I never pursue to begin with I content myself, the person becoming a visual link to the version of them in mind, composited and formed by any information I can glean about them.

So why write about Matt Sears now? Well I just thought it was interesting that it flashed in to my mind so randomly. Things like that are amazingly easy to lose track of and will drift back in to the mind, losing more details the longer they are kept fading in the files. So I thought I would revise it, write back over the yellow paper and greying pencil in the archive. It's as good a time as any to confront and relearn from things over ten years passed, or even to admit to truths I wouldn't before.

So that's it.
Peace.
~Lo