k, the boy from India

1996*
Almost every girl I know has a list, you know, that long list of guys they've dated and been in love with. My list is hilarious, there are only five boys on it, and from that list, I've only dated one of them. I will put them in order of how much they've meant to me.

1. You
2. J (from north carolina)
3. R (from college)
4. E (the identical twin)
5. R (from church)

because I can
5 and a half. K (from India)

When I start to like someone, it usually goes like this, I observe their character, I get to know them as a friend, then I'm secretly in love with them for years. I watch them date other girls, and give them good advice on their relationships, but the whole time I'm just waiting, wishing they would figure out that I'm the girl they want. I'm always the funny girl, the one who makes every guy laugh, but no one actually wants to be with. I know looks are important to guys, it's just how God made them. I don't have a perfect body, my brace is plastic and hard, I get it. I think about how I would be so different if I could wear whatever I wanted and had a "perfect body." It is so hard to be a modest girl these days, I don't give my sisters enough credit for how trendy, yet classy they are. God knows what we can and cannot handle, he doesn't give us anything we cannot bear. I feel like I've been so protected from things that could be bad. So what I think I'm trying to say is, I'm thankful for my disability. It keeps me humble and modest.

K, he really shouldn't make the list, but he was the first boy who really meant something to me, so I count him. He was born in India and had a twin sister who was best friends with my oldest sister. I think they were adopted as babies and lived here their whole lives. They were in our home school group, his mom was close friends with my mom, so I usually saw him at least once a week. We would get lost in the woods for hours. He was in my life for these fleeting, amazing years when you're not old enough to be self conscious yet, but you can run around by yourself and have the kind of fun that leaves you going to bed dirty and exhausted, but with a smile on your face. You worry about nothing beyond what your mom is making for dinner, always have more than enough energy, and going to bed seems like the end of the world. I spent most of those days with him. We would build forts in the basement, and catch frogs in the ditch with the pool skimmer. I remember him sitting by my bed after my surgery, when I was in my full body cast. It was awkward, we couldn't play like we were used to. By the time I was healed, he had stopped coming over.

K was two years older than me and as soon he turned into a teenager, he lost interest in me, and later on wouldn't even acknowledge me in public. That's when I realized that boys only like girls who are terrified of things like spiders and snakes, and only like the color pink. They didn't want to date the girl who acted just like them and only loved blue. My strongest memory of him occurred when I was twelve years old and he was fourteen. It was one of the last times he ever came over. We were in the basement, it had been a while since he was over, and I was so excited to see him and hoped that things would be normal again. We built this fort under the stairs, there were a ton of pillows in there, and we crawled in all excited, just like old times. Once we got situated, we were both so quiet and unsure of ourselves. I felt his arm around me, and he started to play with the flower barrette in my hair. I can still remember the pink striped shirt I was wearing that day, and how I was shaking so bad, and hoping he wouldn't notice. My little sister decided to make an appearance and turned on the lights. She yelled, "what are you guys doing down here?!" I remember being disappointed and relieved at the same time. Later on, after he had gone, I would question whether that had actually happened or not. He moved away a couple months later and I often wondered if I had made him up all together. He remained tall, dark, and handsome in my mind, that is until I found him this year on facebook. I got so excited, till he accepted my friend request...I don't think he grew an inch vertically since I saw him last and he was drunk in almost every photo. He started chatting with me lots, and wanted me to fly down to visit him. Man alive, I should have just left him how he was in my mind, perfect and adoring me in my basement, in our fort under the stairs.