When I was young

Once upon a time I was in love with boy. He was cute, funny, popular, good at sports and especially good with the opposite gender. He was fully aware about the effect of his boyish charm and vivacious smile on girls and just like any other hot blooded teenage boy, left no stone unturned to make the most of his “skills”. The girls loved him as well. They would find his charm irresistible and would shamelessly throw themselves at him. I was the spectator and his best friend. I was also secretly in love with him. He would talk to me daily for hours about his latest crush, the new hot girl, his new acquisition and achievements. He would tell me that he likes and wants only good looking, stylish and girly girls because such girls act as a good arm candy.

I would openly critique his shallow attitude towards women yet would listen to him patiently while trying to dissuade him as well from going after another what he claimed ‘hottie’. I never told what I felt for him. I was just another average looking teenage girl with a short cropped, funny looking hair style which he hated, sporty demeanour, with a ‘I don’t give a shit attitude’!. Very far from the category of hot, stylish or the arm candy material he preferred. But I was naïve and hopeful girl. I believed that sooner or later he would realize how nice, smart and brilliant I am and would fall in love me with. I was patient. Very patient. I left no stone unturned to be there for him always. I listened to his stories, helped him out with his college projects, gave him advice on love life advice and when he told me that he has a crush on one of my best friend and needed my help, with an aching heart I set them up.

I would listen about their dating stories and sob every night. Yet, I waited. Yet, he never noticed me. H e would constantly make funny of my “funny” haircut, my aggressive attitude and left no stone unturned to pick up a fight with me in public. We would be constantly at each other’s throat. We would fight so much as such silly reasons that people would think that we were a couple. He would deny the rumours with such vehemence that it was hurtful.


Years later, we met and we spoke. He confessed that he would pick those vicious fights with me in public with me because he thought they were "fun" and assumed that I thrived on them as well. To cut a long story short, he never fell in love with me and treated me with so much disrespect that I eventually gave up. After 5 years I gave up being his late night phone call friend. I gave up listening to his endless stories. I gave up being the girl who he claimed was his best friend yet he was too ashamed to be seen his public with me. I moved away from his life. It was not a painful decision but an inevitable one. I wonder if he ever noticed that I was gone. Many years later, by chance we met again and he apologized for treating me badly. He apologized for everything and I could see that the boy, whom I met when we were just 16, had grown up. He was not the skirt chasing, immature guy I knew. I forgave him with all my heart and even shared a laugh with him. For old times sake.Did I tell him that I was in love with me? Yes because after all it was no big deal.

Not even for me.