He Lost Out

It's nice to have a crush on someone. It feels like you're alive, you know?" -Scarlett Johanssen

Once upon a time, in high school, I used to be quite painfully shy.

A few months back, I met a person with a highly unusual and strikingly familiar first name. 

This, dear reader, just happened to be the very same name of my first ardent and significant romantic crush. 

Not just that one cute boy in my second grade class, 

or the one with freckles who set my toes to tingling when I was ten.

No mere puppy love was this but genuine affection for a proper teenage boy who set my high school heart racing, and I loved him for well more than a year.

But sadly, he did not love me back. 

While I'm still rather introverted, I have definitely outgrown my shyness. 

And so when I recently made the acquaintance of this person with the same unusual name and this rush of fond memories flooded back into my mind and heart, also renewed were the red-hot surges of stinging embarrassment that often accompany such bouts of unrequited love.

Oh, I'm sure he knew I was interested in him. 

A few of our mutual friends undoubtedly revealed my secret.

And then there were daily bouts of stolen glances and lingering stares, and the uncanny way I had 

of popping up along his routes between classes, 

of wandering by his usual lunch table, 

of sauntering past his bus as I made my way to my own bus which was actually parked in the opposite direction. 

At a school dance, on a ladies' choice song, I once invited him to dance. 

He said yes. That was nice.

But in the decades since, whenever I've reflected on this time in my life, I still feel utterly and absolutely mortified that he knew all about my one-sided interest in him. 

Up until last week, that is.

Very few people from the old days know me as I am today. 

Because suddenly, out of nowhere, a new idea popped into my head.

I would have been a wonderful girlfriend for him.

I was smart.

I was driven.

I was cute. 

I was funny.

I was full of adventure and interested in trying new things and always up for a laugh.

As was he. 

Maybe the passing of so many years has stripped away my modesty or maybe I really do understand things better now, but this week, I suddenly see with perfect clarity that this boy and I had all the makings of a sweet and successful high school match. 

And I think most all of my high school friends and acquaintances - including my crush - 

would be very surprised at who I've become. 

So rather than carrying this red-faced shame about my high school crush for another single minute, I'm going to celebrate the fact that I chose very well for myself. And while this young man didn't happen to return my feelings, that doesn't mean that I have anything to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.

It simply means that he lost out.