Barb’s Burblings

I’ve been amused reading the latest entries on Pamie’s blog. She’s been posting letters she wrote when she was 15 to boys she liked/dated. (It seems like there may have been a relationship, though not the undying love the 15-year-old Pamie believed it to be.) It reminds me of when Wing posted chapters from the novel she wrote as a teenager–now available for sale. (It’s pretty darn amusing. I say this as someone who has her own writing from a similar period in life squirreled away somewhere.)

Anyway, in that vein, I pulled out my own old diary, just to see. And oh, good times. For example, this, from when I was 14:

After trudging through the day, I realized something: last night, I gave [Boy] my heart.

This was written the day after a party I went to, in which Boy and I (and a bunch of other people) chatted and he talked about how depressed he was that his friends all had girlfriends but he didn’t. This was, quite possibly, the most I ever talked to this boy, with whom I had one class.

All day (even now) I feel this empty, gnawing feeling where my heart should be. I think about him all the time. Sometimes I take out old yearbooks and just stare at him. I don’t even know what I see in him. All I know is that I stare at him in Geometry all the time,

And I wonder why I did so poorly in that class!

I veg out thinking of him, and picturing him helps me to sleep at night.

Mind you, the next entry, dated two weeks later, starts

I took back my heart. I still have a crush on [Boy], but I took my heart back.

Well, that’s encouraging. And I somehow managed to be WAY less melodramatic about my next crush, with whom I had an actual relationship. Not a romantic relationship, mind you, but we were friends. Actual friends. We talked on the phone. We hung out. I believe he’s now a priest.

But to give you even more of an insight into my mind, we have this:

I might have a crush on [Yet Another Boy]. I’m not sure yet. I hope not; he’s only in 8th grade.

I was in 10th at the time.

But he is taller than me.

There was possibly more to the attraction than that, but I’m not going to swear on it.

In some ways, I wish I were more different from the me of 1993 than I am–looking at my life, I can see myself developing crushes, and it not being THAT different. But the main thing is, I REALIZE that it’s just a crush. Not whatever I thought these infatuations were.

There are times when it’s WAY easier being 31 than 15. Also, you can have ice cream for dinner and nobody cares.