Teenage memories

Prompted by both a guilty conscience and a kind reminder from Wendz, whose terrific blog I've been visiting frequently of late, here's a proper post, written by a somewhat tired eddyquette at a time when I should really be in bed, I guess. Anyway, I did promise I'd write about something personal and autobiographic, so here goes... This image shows my home town of Brackenheim - I forget where I found it, sorry. Anyway, what I'm going to tell you about is a memory that came back to me the other day - the kind of memory that makes you smile and cringe at the same time (at least, if you're me, it does). I was thinking, recently, of "all the girls I've loved before" (thank you, Willie Nelson) - the flings, flirts and partnerships that made me me, that seemed so terribly important at the time. No, I'm not generally one for nostalgia as the vast majority of my growing-up memories still have me flinching until today. But anyway... I remembered the very first girl I was ever officially "together" with, and the goofy circumstances and rigmarole that went with the whole matter. I must have been about 15 at the time, and had developed this crush on a very attractive girl two forms down (Year Seven). I didn't really know her, but I knew her name (I'm going to call her "Lilith", a name so un-German as to make it completely unrealistic within the context) and, most importantly, I saw her every single schoolday, for about 20 minutes. Oh, the excitement of that! A couple of friends of mine had developed this regular spot where we'd hang out during the mid-morning break from classes. We'd be there every morning, and, much to our delight, "Lilith" and several of her friends, most of whom were quite pretty, would come and hang out about 30 yards from us, on the other side of the schoolyard. From our respective vantage points, we'd talk among our own little groups and, of course, stare across at the other group to see what they were up to, whether they were looking at us, etc. Now, as I said, I'd developed this crush on "Lilith", a pretty brunette with a ponytail and vivid blue eyes. She, in turn, appeared to have taken at least a bit of a shine to me so that, within the limits of our own courage, we must have spent quite a lot of time sneaking looks at each other, trying not to get caught by the other's gaze yet secretly hoping they might be interested. Now, a guy from my class happened to know one of the other girls from the little group quite well and it was he who assured me that Lilith's friend had said Lilith had a crush on me, too. I tell you - I was so excited, I barely slept at night, and all I could think of were those beautiful, sparkling eyes and that dazzling smile of hers. Oh, and her (real) name, of course... There was only one hitch to my romantic dalliance; never in my life would I have actually worked up the courage to walk across that schoolyard and approach the object of my dreams. It might have been a mere 30 yards that separated us physically, but in my mind it might as well have been an ocean. Even though I "knew" my love might be requited, there was no way in heaven or hell I was going to face up to that. Nuh-uh, not me. I'd always been a bit shy, not thought of myself as being particularly attractive, never dared to imagine myself as a bit of a stud. None of my friends had ever had a girlfriend before and I would have stuck out like a sore thumb on that schoolyard (or so I thought at the time). Plus, I was in mid-puberty and as self-conscious as a boy can be. So, even though I was madly in love and believed to know "she" felt the same, it was stale-mate for me and this, I thought, was how things would stay. In fact, I was fairly happy for it to be so - quite honestly, I wouldn't have known what on earth to say to her, how to act, what to do with each other if confronted with the reality of a face-to-face conversation. The funny thing is, I didn't think of myself as a "late bloomer" or anything at the time - like I said, my friends were in the same situation and, like me, had no immediate plans for change. So anyway, guess how surprised I was when, several days of longing stares later, a note arrived via my classmate, addressed to both him and me. (This has me actually grinning in retrospect - the efficient thinking behind two girls writing just one note to two guys) In it, a girl whom he fancied AND my beloved Lilith had had posed us that all-important question of the time; did we want to "go out" (i.e. be boyfriends) with them? Amusingly, they had opted to give us an easy method of response, intending presumably to avoid unnecessary embarrassment. It was a multiple-choice note - underneath the question, there were tick-boxes labelled "yes", "no" or, in case we weren't sure, "perhaps". Of course, we both emphatically made our marks in the "yes" box... That night, I didn't sleep a wink. We were together! I had no idea what to do, but was delirious with emotion, mostly nervousness lashed with joy and excitement. What would happen next? Would I get to kiss my first girl? Would we hold hands? Would I get to stare into those beautiful eyes from close up? What would I do? What would I say? Did I really have what it takes to pull this whole thing off somehow? What would my friends say? I got more and more nervous as the morning drew by and we neared the famous 20 minute break. Rushing down to my accustomed spot, there she was with her friends, all tittering and chuckling among themselves. Suddenly, I was hit by a wave of uneasiness and shock; what if it had been a joke, a hoax concocted to embarrass me? What if they were laughing at the note right now, guffawing at my naiveté? All I could manage was to stare at Lilith. She in turn looked back at me, our eyes meeting openly for a few seconds. I looked away. She had acknowledged me! I looked again. Oh God, she was still looking my way! Again, our eyes met and this time, we looked at each other a little longer. Waves of bliss and elation coursed through me - this, surely, was the most exciting thing I'd ever experienced. Then, all too soon, the bell rang and recess was over. Away we walked to our respective classrooms, casting a sneak peak or two over our shoulders to see whether the other one was still looking. God, the excitement! I thought I was never going to be the same again - I felt older, cooler, groovier, superior to my mates, bursting with pride that I had something they could only dream of. I was officially in love with a girl! I kept my little secret to myself that day and didn't tell anyone. The next morning, when break time rolled around, the situation of the day before repeated itself. Again, her friends were chatting and even pointing my way, which made me way too nervous to even consider an approach. I had, by then, worked out her phone number, though, and told my friends all about our "involvement" there and then. Of course, this was done in between stares and shy smiles across the yard. After school, I spent all afternoon trying to work up the courage to ring Lilith. Eventually, I managed to dial and not put the receiver down before hearing the beep. Her Dad picked up the phone - in a blind panic, I slammed it down, gasping with the shock of my own audacity. You may think I'm making this up, by the way, but that really is the way it was, I promise. I felt I'd grown at least several inches in those couple of days - after all, I had a real girlfriend, an attractive female who'd shown interest in me. No, so we hadn't even exchanged as much as a "hello", but in my mind (and in the eyes of my mates), I ruled the little roost of my peer group. Heck, I was groovy and high on imaginary romance. Thinking back, the fact that I felt so involved with a person I'd never spoken to, never touched or held, makes me smile and wonder at my own behaviour. I guess my imagination had always played a big part in things (and still does), but the absurdity of my thinking still makes me laugh/cringe today. Anyway, to sum things up, our (my) imaginary relationship lasted for a full week after which Lilith informed me (via a second and final written note) that she was breaking up with me and that we were over. The funny thing to me now is how she would have used such language when all she was ending was a non-existent relationship. At least, if nothing else it shows me that maybe I wasn't the only one of us with a vivid imagination...