Diary of an African child in Africa!

When I Get a Crush Part 2

You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm. ~ Colette

So there was this guy at the last high school I went to. Let's call him Adrian, because that's his name. He was gorgeous kinda like a Tumblr boy; quite popular and attractive 85% of the time - you know the type.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, I had taken it upon myself to woo this boy. Now here's the thing, unlike the rest of them, I was super short, skinny and wore thick glasses etc etc, didn't help much.

But I was too love struck to really care. I had an unhealthy obsession with him. We didn't really talk much at the start but in my mind I had hatched an awesome idea that would be sure to make him fall in love with me forever like I had imagined. The plan was flawless, or so I thought. I was going to make his interests my interests, his hobbies my hobbies and then he would totally see that we were made for each other. I was feeling particularly bold.

I went through the phase of early morning makeovers from trying out a fringe to drowning myself in a bottle of my mother's treasured perfume. Even though I thought I was being cool and was making progress due to the fact that we started hanging out more, at the back of my head I thought that I looked like an attention starved retard but I continued with my plan anyway because Adrian and I were going to get married... some day.

Strange as you might have it, things started to fall in place and we established some sort of connection. But as the cliche goes, things began to change and killed my fist pump in the air mini-victory moment. He started getting a little too friendly with other females and when confronted about it he assured me that I was the Kimberly to his Marshall Mathers; the muse that fueled his awesomeness.

I was elated.

So then I got comfortable. Slowly letting slip my weird quirkiness and sapient demeanor. Forgetting tiny details about his interests and hobbies. The line between being myself and sticking to my well orchestrated plan got blurred somewhere along the way.

Then one day, while we were texting he asked,

"What's your handicap?"

And in a nonchalant manner I responded by describing my visual impairment.

But something felt off. He didn't reply for almost an hour despite the fact that he was online. Unsure about how to proceed I went ahead to consult Google about our conversation and the result was that he wanted to know about my golf handicap. This prompted a recollection of a conversation we'd had about how he played golf and I had interest in the sport too(which was a tiny white lie because I'd attempted to play once just never had the chance to play again, probably something I should've mentioned though.)

Instead of doing some damage control and fixing the situation so he could think I'm cool again, I just let it fly. It may or may not have been the reason Adrian and I didn't work out but I learnt something very important from all that.

I should've just been myself.

I realize now what I should've done back then and that is to embrace my awkwardness, be with someone who will join in my absurdity and won't ask me to be a certain way to attract them. I'm not saying that I regret any of it or that Adrian made me act like someone I'm not.

In retrospect the entire operation was doomed to fail from the start whether I molded myself into the Kim Mathers he wanted me to be or was a more bold and self assured person. I'm just sorry that I bought into this ridiculous delusion that I had to hide myself to gain his approval and gave myself no other choice. 

So since then I accepted that I have insecurities and I'm just going to let it fly. I'm going to be weird and I'm going to flirt with the prettiest face and see what happens! Teehee! \(￣< ￣)>

I hope this confession reveals a sorority of retards who have tired to impress other people at the cost of pretending to be someone other than themselves so I feel less pathetic.

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