If we were in high school right now, I would be justified to call this school boy crush. Alas, we are in law school, of different circumstances, more serious playing field. But it doesn't change the fact that you will be that guy out of reach, always in my hindsight, perfect for "too good for me" drama, just like a typical teenage angst.
To say that I barely remember high school is a lie. On reunions, my high school classmates would rely on me, to acts as if I am Dumbledore's pensieve, to bring something that happened a decade ago. I remember the teachers, the fist fight, the awkward pimples brought by raging teenage hormones, the prom, the late afternoon sunsets as we waited for our sundo, the jeje language that used to be in. But I do not have a story John Hughes will be proud to make.
I got by with just a crush. I was the most sexually confused then. Being attracted to the same sex in a rural town with no other past time but to talk about their neighbor's affairs, no. The internet, in its small network then, was my only safe ground. The fact that I was the high school valedictorian didn't help. Batchmates would probably remember me or bringing too mane books in school. Everybody expected a lot from me, but not on the romance side of life.
And so I was used to secret glances, misreading smiles and compliments, and hell, straight guy crushes. I never learned how to initiate things, unless you started talking about a movie, or a book, or the latest song from a favorite band's new album. I either talk a lot, or not talk at all, no in-betweens. I will always be the nerd high school kid who didn't get his game on. I swear, I would be a good lab rat for some psychologist trying to study the impact of high school awkwardness to adolescence capability to flirt.
Next week will be the last meeting in the only class we share this semester. As to whether we will still have a subject to share on our last semester in law school, the probabilities are low. So if you happen to read this, to which I doubt (but hope), maybe we could go beyond the occasional greetings in the lobby or hopeless encounters courtesy of common friends. A coffee, or two. I would even agree to a post-episode analysis of America's Next Top Model.
But god knows, I am in my usual teenage high school phase when you are near.
