Breaking Boys 4 (reprise)

The Childhood Friend

"There was the boy who was always there and who was always in the back of my mind. He was the boy who was a childhood friend, whom I flirted with endlessly, even when he paid me no attention in public places. He was the boy I pined for, wrote poems about, the first boy I wanted to kiss and the only boy, at that time that I thought I could marry. He was the boy who was supposedly "meant to be" yet, one of the few boys that I never dated, and whom I now respectfully consider an amazing man."


There is no photo of him hiding in my box of relationship relics, no letters or movie tickets to commemorate a date or a special event. I have no physical proof that he existed in my world of boys besides the family photos I have acquired of him and his sisters, one of whom happens to be one of my closest friends. These photos are strewn amongst various scrapbook pages, photo albums and boxes of keepsakes, but there never was a picture taken just for me. But then again, that’s because our friendship never progressed that far.

Our relationship was anything but. From the time I was old enough to feel for boys, I felt for him. Our families spent summers camping together and winters playing together in the snow. We grew up together, and it was because of that fact that I believed we would end up together. "How could I find anyone who knew me better?" I thought, "no one can match the history we’ve built." But I was young and I foolishly believed in those "happily ever after", hopelessly romantic notions of childhood sweethearts.

When we camped together and our families spent time together, we had a great friendship, but the minute someone else came along, I was ignored. When we were around other people I always had the feeling that he was embarrassed to be seen with me, that he didn’t want people to know we had any semblance of a friendship. Looking back on it, though, I can’t blame him. It was no secret that I had feelings for him. I spent so much time talking about him and chasing after him, it’s embarrassing to even think about, much less experience.

Eventually, I made myself date other boys, all the while comparing them to my childhood friend, in an attempt to detach myself from the embarrassment and humiliation I felt from the so-called unrequited love. I spent time in church, praying about it, writing about it, and yes, still talking about it with people who believed we would end up together too. But it never happened.
We grew up a bit, he pretended he didn’t know how I felt about him, and I managed to move on. Somehow I never felt the need to break him like I did other boys. With him, I just wanted a chance.

Its amazing to think how long ago that was and how deeply I felt for this boy. I can’t even remember the exact age I was when I began to feel for him, but as far back as I can remember he’s been someone special to me. He’s the boy I grew up with and the boy I had to grow out of. He’s the boy that reassured the notion that you can’t always get want you want. And, sometimes, it turns out better that way.