"Muffins"

For the first time in three months, I was happy again. Three months of beating myself up for being a coward. For being a moron. All that dissipated when I saw her. The Girl the Blue Hoodie. The mysterious new "girl of my dreams" (you'll probably hear that phrase a lot in the coming posts.) In a blink of an eye, I was over it all. I no longer dwelt on my screw-up with Erin. All I could think about now was finding the identity of the Girl in the Blue Hoodie.

     I first met her at Camp Heritage (a Seventh-Day Adventist youth summer camp) during a game of "Cat and Mouse." And after that, I devoted the rest of that weekend to my own game of Cat and Mouse. I the cat and she the mouse. (You know what? I just realized how creepy that sounded.) Let me rephrase that: I devoted the rest of that weekend to "Operation Get-the-Girl 2?" Ahhh yes, that's better.

     I kept an eye out for her as the weekend's festivities rolled on. I looked and looked, but never once saw a glimpse of her. I didn't see her again until the final night. The final day they showed a movie for all of the campers. It was called, "Facing the Giants" (a movie about a highschool football team.) But I wasn't paying attention to the movie, because as I sat down next to my friend Tommy (another camper) I saw, sitting next to us, The Girl in the Blue Hoodie. My heart stopped. Now was my chance. My chance to truly meet the blue-hooded girl.

     Tommy was already talking to her and introduced me and we all hit it off right away. The Girl in the Blue Hoodie's name was Kayla and we talked through the whole movie. We talked about our different likes and dislikes, during which I found out that Kayla loved muffins. I don't think I stress that enough. She LOVED muffins with a burning passion that consumed her soul. I remembered having seen a basket of muffins by the popcorn earlier, so I sneaked off to get one. I crept back and gently laid the muffin by her hand. I don't know if she ever noticed it and ate it or not, but after that, I called her "Muffins."

     After the movie ended and we all had to return to our cabins, Kayla made us swear that we'd all see each other again. As I began to say, "I swear!" a little piece of popcorn flew out of my mouth. I looked down at the popcorn kernel  and back up at my new friend and said, "I swear on the popcorn kernel of truth!" Let me tell you, the popcorn kernel of truth is binding! I was the only one between Tommy and me to keep that promise.

     It was a promise I was happy to keep, too. I remember leaving the building and heading back to the cabin and thinking to myself, "Someday, I'm going to marry that girl. And I'll have the best 'how I met your mother story ever!'" Little did I know how misguided I was. . .

The Girl in the Blue Hoodie

In the winter of 2007 I had just screwed up my only chance with, who I thought was, the girl of my dreams. I was kicking myself the rest of that winter (not literally, that would be inconvenient.) I got really down in the dumps about it. It wasn't just that I had screwed up any potential romantic relationship with her, but I completely obliterated our friendship. The lesson I took from that was that it is better to never love than lose a friend. I thought I'd feel that way forever. I felt like I'd die alone (that may still happen, but that is beside the point.) Little did I know how quickly I'd get over this.

     It was my first time going to summer camp. Technically it wasn't "summer" camp because I was staying for a special weekend in March of 2008. But it was my first time at camp all the same. It was called Camp Heritage, and that is where I met the Girl in the Blue Hoodie.

     The camp director had arranged some group activities to break the ice among the campers. The most memorable was called "Cat & Mouse." Basically the way you played the game was, each guy would link arms with a girl and one guy and one girl were left unattached and tried to tag one another. If the one being chased was able to get to someone of the opposite sex and link arms with them, the person currently linked to that individual would have to let go and run.

     Being rather antisocial, I didn't want to play this game. I shied over into a corner, hoping not to be noticed. No such luck. The camp director found me and brought me to the middle of the room and that is when I saw her. The only girl not currently attached to anyone's arm. The girl I had the privilege to link arms with. She was the most beautiful girl my young eyes had seen. She had sandy brown hair that fell just slightly past her shoulders and she wore an unassuming, blue hoodie. The look on her face indicated she was just as apprehensive about this game as I was.

     We linked arms and the game began, but I wasn't paying attention to the game. I was too preoccupied with the girl on my arm to give a crap about that stupid game. For the first time since Christmas, I was truly happy. But all good things come to an end. Inevitably, another girl ran up and hooked onto my arm, and with that, the she was gone, lost in the madness of Cat & Mouse. It was then that I knew I had to spend the rest of that weekend finding the identity of the Girl in the Blue Hoodie. . .

To Be Continued. . .

Hey! You've Got to Hide Your Love Away!

There I stood, shaking like a leaf. There was no going back now. The note was in her hands and soon she would know what I had been longing to tell her for so long. So why was I so scared? I should be happy, right? WRONG! There is nothing more humiliating and embarrassing than rejection. It is the scariest thing a man can face. I'd rather fight a legion of dragons than go through a moment like that again (come to think of it, my references to dragons may be the reason why I'm still single.)

     That antagonizing wait became too much and I left the room before she had even read the note. Though I feel very bad about it now, I even avoided her the rest of the night. I couldn't even face her at my piano lessons or anytime after that. We used to hang out after my lessons, but now I would leave right after. The worst part was, I still hadn't gotten her response.

     It was almost four weeks later before we really talked to each other beyond pleasantries. We talked a little bit about some meaningless stuff that I can't remember and then she said, "I read your note."

     My throat tightened to where I could barely breathe. What was she going to say? Did I freak her out? Does she hate me? All I could respond with was, "Uh, huh."

      She was about to say something when I heard my mom say, "Okay, Nash. It's time to go." You'd think I would have learned my lesson at this point and stayed long enough to hear what she had to say, but you'd be wrong in thinking that. I didn't stay. Like a coward, I left and we never really talked again.

     Only a few weeks after that, I quit piano lessons and our friendship completely fell apart. Don't worry, I did learn a lesson from this experience, but not the right one. I should have learned to have courage and take things like a man, but I didn't. The lesson I learned was was this: It's better to never experience love than to experience fear. Like the Beatles song, I learned to hide my love away. I would rather bottle up my feelings than loose a friend. This was the wrong lesson to learn and it took many years to unlearn. As a matter of fact, I'm still unlearning it. . .

End of Pt. I

To be Continued in Pt. II 

The Plot Thickens

In the Winter of 2007, Operation "Get-the-Girl" took effect. The week before Christmas and after my piano recital, I would finally reveal my feelings to Erin. My sister and I had it all planned out. I would get her a nice gift with a card, and in the card I would write my feelings. All that was left was to find a nice gift.

     Remember last time how I said I was an idiot? Here's why. When we were puzzling about what
to get her I said, "I don't know, what if we get her a gift card, or money, or something? That way she can get whatever she wants."

     Thank goodness for my sister. If it weren't for her, I would've made a fool of myself. My sister gave me a look of astonishment and said, "What, are you her uncle or something? You can't give her a gift card!"

     So the search for the perfect gift went on. . . and on. . . and on. . . It was getting closer and closer to Christmas and we hadn't decided on anything yet. Finally, out of desperation, we decided to give her a charm bracelet. With this out of the way it was time for the second faze: Writing the note.

     This faze, as simple as it may seem, was harder than the first faze. Heck, it was almost as hard as giving her the note. I just didn't know what to write. After three long years of fantasizing about what I would say, I still couldn't figure it out. It took the whole time, from when we got the gift to the day I gave her the note, to figure out what to say. And all it said was this:

Dear Erin,

I just wanted you to know, I love you.

                                           

                                            Nash

     Finally, everything was prepared.

     The night finally came. Date: Tuesday, December 18th, 2007. Time: 7:00 p.m. Place: Hume Christian Church, my piano recital. Thus began the third and final faze. The faze I dubbed "Suicide."

     The night was bad enough without Operation "Get-the-Girl" looming over my head. I was already about to piss my pants worrying about my recital piece, but the added fear of what I had to do afterward almost gave me a premature heart-attack. Luckily, I made it though my piano piece just fine. Now it was on to the hard part.

     What happened next was the most terrifying moment of my early teen years. At the reception after the recital, I asked Erin over to a quiet room and gave her the gift. My heart was pounding so hard, I swear she could've heard it. After she had opened the gift, I handed her the note. Now my hands were sweating. As she began to open the note I lost my nerve and left the room. . .

To Be Continued. . .