Photo by alundpughe
Dear Matthew*,
You were the first boy I ever had a crush on! I never went through the “cooties” phase or any phrase where I believed boys to be gross. I was boy crazy from the beginning. You were in my preschool class and you looked adorable in your acid wash jean shorts and TMNT tee. And you had such a nice smile!
I don’t remember doing this but in a video of our preschool graduation, my dad zooms in on us while I fix your collar for you and fuss with your clothes to make sure you look fabulous for the most important days of our lives (at that point). We look just like a married couple. It’s adorable.
But after pre-school we went out separate ways and to this day I have never run into you again.
Dear Mark,
I think after two of our classmates became a “couple” at recess in second grade and had a public wedding ceremony, you and I wanted in on the action. I’m not sure how we ever paired up. I do remember I had to bring in a note to go home with you after school and our teacher laughed and teased us, which was awkward.
We went back to your house and locked ourselves in you room. We made rings out of rubber bands, put them on each other’s fingers, and kissed. We fell to the ground laughing at how ridiculous it all was and swore to never tell anyone about it. Of course we told all our friends the next day. And I’m telling everyone now.
Dear Jesse,
I spent most of fifth grade changing my mind over whether I had a crush on you or your best friend. I can’t even remember now who won out in the end, though I think in the end it was you. I remember my best friend and I sitting in the back of the bus with you and him on the way to a field trip thinking we were so cool – rambunctiously flirting and teasing each other. I also remember I found a caterpillar at recess one day that I named Jack Dawson and you threw him on the ground and smooshed him. This probably meant you liked me.
Dear Heath,
You were my first “boyfriend,” although this was in middle school so, make necessary adjustments to the definition of “boyfriend.” You were sweet and we had fun, though to be honest I remember very little of our time together. It has nothing to do with you, it’s my silly memory.
We went to the movies a lot on “dates” and were completely and utterly innocent in every way. We never kissed, hardly held hands, and were perfectly satisfied just enjoying the presence of each other (and the presents…we always seemed to get together around holidays…)
As with all middle school romances, we moved on from each other, thankful for the experience of our first starter relationship.
Dear David,
You were my first true and real love. What we had was hardly a conventional relationship. We bonded over a mutual hatred for my brother and somehow from hate blossomed love. It was always us against the world and this of course makes all relationships seem more intense than they actually are.
But I loved you and spent most days worrying about what we would have to do to end up together in the end – you put me through the ringer man. Things you did to torture my brother tortured me to a degree as well. My relationship with my family was like walking on a flaming tight rope the entire time we were together.
I always compared us to Romeo and Juliet – our love born from hate, our families tearing us apart, the only certainty about our future being our love. But in the end, I couldn’t throw away everything for you. I sometimes regret that and wonder how things would be now if we had stuck it out and stayed together. But, it doesn’t matter anymore. A part of me will always love you and I’m glad to know you are healthy and alive. And that’s all I need.
Dear Jonathan,
Ahh Jonathan. What can I say about you? You were my first college fling. I was never attracted to you and honestly always felt very guarded around you but you were obsessed with me to say the least – made apparently by the premature invitations of romantic get aways and the unconfirmed proposal I’m convinced was on your mind – and I ate that up. You taught me a harsh lesson – that I’m a lot more shallow than I thought I was. Aside from the fact that you were a sketchy character, voluntary spent the entirety of almost ever weekend at Graham Central Station, and had bugs in your house, I didn’t like you because of the way you looked. And it was something I couldn’t get past, and I feel bad for that fact.
But you were nice, surprisingly insightful, and you treated me well. I know you would be a good and reliable friend to anyone who would have you. You always told me how beautiful I was and how lucky you were. I won’t soon forget the many afternoons we spent napping in your bed or waking up with you the mornings after drunken nights at Graham, wondering what I was thinking.
Dear Jason,
There is not one part of you that fits the criteria of men I am attracted to. Frat boy – no thank you. Male chauvinistic – no thank you. Fat – no thank you. But for some reason I spent the majority of The Summer of The Haus harboring a crush for you. I loved stealing kisses from you.
But you also taught me a valuable lesson in that some men – you, specifically – are assholes. Plain and simple. You’re immature and honestly one of the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever met in my life. Maybe this makes me sound like a jilted lover, and so be it. But learn how to treat a lady and grow up and out of the frat house, and then we’ll talk.
Dear Steven,
I hated you from the moment I met you – literally – and I’m not sure when or why things changed. A part of me really wished they hadn’t. I formed the biggest, most awkward crush on you, and it was unexplainable. It was the first time I truly felt betrayed by myself, like I was going crazy. Not a good feeling. Part of me is glad because without the feelings I would’ve never fought so hard for your friendship, and I enjoy hanging out with you. It frustrates me because there is something I see in you that clearly no one else sees, not even you. And I wish there was some way for me to capitalize on that somehow. I love you in a completely unselfish way in that I want you to be happy, no matter what that means for me in relation to you. I was over the moon when I found out you had a girlfriend because I knew you were happy and someone was taking care of you. I’ve never felt that unselfishly about my love for someone, and I thank you for showing me that I can feel that way.
Dear Michael,
I have to admit that the very first night I met you, I thought to myself, “this guy is really cute. I definitely want to hook up with him tonight.” Of course, things don’t always work out the way you want them too and I ended up going home early with a friend.
Imagine my surprise when months later, after I had resigned to casual friendship with you, we hooked up. I often think back to those days and wonder what was going through my head. You must’ve thought I was such a floozy. I actually liked you, so it was silly of me to jump the gun so soon.
In the end it never progressed anywhere past friendship, you got a girlfriend, and I of course remain terminally single. Distance was never on my side, but I like to think if it had been, maybe there could’ve been something between us. You are an amazing person, and though we aren’t even close friends, you are one of my favorite people I have ever met. You are going to make some girl extremely happy, and of her I will always be jealous.
*Note: Names have been changed to protect the innocent. And even the not-so-innocent.
Aimee "The Ponz" Pontius is just a simple girl from New England who moved to the south for college. From there she spent a summer in Northern Kentucky partying, made some bad decisions (and some good ones), dropped out of college, moved back in with her parents and now...well now this blog. Her friends call her The Ponz, Ponzy, Pontavius, Cuntius, Raponzal and various other forms. She likes cuddling, eating with chopsticks, and playing in the rain. 