I’m long over him and wish him well. It was merely a crush; I can rightly
say that I was never in love with him. But there are times when I’m sitting
quietly, maybe driving down the empty rural road on my way to the
classes I teach, or just having a beer after work with my cats, when I’ll
wonder, what if that boy and I… There is no finishing that sentence, because
there was nothing to finish it with. While I’m certain that even if he had agreed to my asking him
out we wouldn’t have lasted, and I am okay with that. It’s that what if that I never got over.
As the ten-year anniversary of my graduation from high school draws near
(I am not going to the reunion, because that’s not my thing), I have been
forced to face how far I’ve come, what the ten years meant. In some ways, I
feel as though I just left high school; in others, it seems a lifetime ago.
Academically I’ve made the most progress: I obtained a bachelor’s and then a
master’s degree in short order, and I’m striving to learn new things all the
time. I have a decent job and most importantly, time to write and practice
music. Where I feel I’ve made little progress is in the above story. It keeps
repeating itself, with one exception: it now usually ends with a “no.”
I thought I had learned nothing since then, but I see now that isn’t
true. I learned that I hate the “what if?” sentence. This childhood crush that
still pesters me – not because I still feel it, but because my brain still
refuses to stop asking that stupid question – has driven me to be a more
audacious person. I now just ask. And
I’m mostly okay with the rejections, because I would rather be rejected, get
drunk over it and move on, than always wonder what if. And even if I become a cat lady with no prospects, I am
done with what if.
So if I ask you outright, “Will you go out with me?” for fuck’s sake,
just say “No, I’m gay” or “No, I’m married/have a girlfriend” or “I don’t date
crazy bisexual cellists, sorry.” Don’t torment me with your non-answer or say
yes and never call. I’ve had ten years to kick all my what ifs to the curb.
I’m not even sure where I was going with this, but I’ll end with this bit
of advice for my readers: don’t take what
ifs from anyone. What ifs are the
shit that keeps you up at night, that keeps you from ever having a truly quiet
moment. If you’re expecting rejection, make sure you really get rejected, and
then bitch about it, and then go on to the next thing. Because I tell you, what ifs suck.
