Confessions of The Black Lover Boy: Haela

This was intense. Like in second grade, what I felt for you was intense. Every one that seemed to see how we felt about eachother thought it was a phase. For me, I felt like I could love you forever. You were so beautiful to me. So perfect. You had this mole on your face that felt like God was just showing off. I liked you because you were so pretty, but also so nice. You were so nice to people, but also so open with your emotions. You weren’t afraid to show you were angry when you were angry. You weren’t afraid to cry if you felt sad. I admired that about you. You made me see how strong a person could be, even if they show their emotions. I remember holding your hand in the hallway and feeling my whole face go numb. I remember sneaking kisses whenever we weren’t around teachers. I remember second grade being so enjoyable because I felt I loved my school. Maybe it was a good year for me, maybe it was just because I met you. Either way, I looked forward to being there. It’s funny, with you I always felt like I was living a dream. Not necessarily because whimsical things were happening, but mostly because I would think about you continuously. At home you were my primary and secondary thoughts. I wouldn’t do much else in that time until after I had thought thoroughly about you. Sometimes as a man, I think of whether you were a love, or an obsession…

I remember you being so into Britney Spears. You would sing her songs and dance around and I would melt. I was more of a N’Sync guy that wouldn’t want to admit he loved Britney from fear of being ridiculed. You gave me the chance to fully love her and her music through you and your love for her.

When I think about it all, it does seem way too early for me to have felt feelings this intensely. I remember one moment meeting your mom and seeing how beautiful she was also. I remember being excited because I thought you would grow to look like her, and that was quite alright. Again, a second grader thinking this way really puts you in perspective. Thinking about this relationship existing in the second grade makes it a little easier to swallow how we stopped being an item. Because I will admit, that heartbreak was the first time I truly felt hurt by love.

I remember a whole summer vacation of missing you but never seeing you. I remember a whole summer vacation of looking forward to the first day of school to see you again. A whole summer of day camps where I kept my distance from all the other rising 3rd grade girls because I was committed.

I remember coming to school the first day of third grade eager to show you how faithful I was. How much I really loved being your boyfriend, even if it was just for pretend. I remember seeing you across the school yard catching up with friends. I remember staring over at you, holding the straps of my backpack, feeling the thud of my heart shake my chest. You were just as beautiful as the last time I saw you. I remember staring at you for a while. This year you weren’t in my class so you were in a different line. I couldn’t stop looking at you until one moment you finally looked back through the midst of the crowd. We locked eyes and you immediately rolled your’s and had a face of disgust.

That was it. That was the end. For some reason, my second grade self was able to be broken up with through one look. One look that made me know, we were not a thing anymore. I remember the first day of class in a new classroom, crying and singing “Tell me the feeling of being lonely” by BackStreet boys. (I had recently allowed myself to hear N’Sync’s competition and was impressed.) I was beyond heartbroken. It felt like my dream imploded, and I was left with this obsession.

We went to the same school for 3 more years, and every time I saw you, I felt ashamed for how much I loved just looking at your face. We ended up in different middle schools, but you somehow ended up in the one nearest my house. I would run into you randomly and hate it because I just wanted to be able to appreciate your beauty without fearing you looking at me the way you did.

I tried so long to figure out what I did to make you not like me anymore. I blamed myself in countless ways. All I know is you were amazing to me, and I think you have one of the most beautiful faces I’ve seen. I can still close my eyes and see you sometimes. I think that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, what is a beauty without her beholder.

I love you.