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