About 3 weeks had passed since my crazy go-out-on-a-limb letter scenario. It had been a very successful event (God obviously was watching out for me that day) and I had received 2 letters thus far. I was a very happy girl, and was quietly enjoying my increasing attraction to the young man. I could hardly tell my friends about him; except for my two best girlfriends, Joanne and Elyn.
I didn't want to have people expecting something to happen, and then nothing happen. And I didn't want to have to give a painful explaination as to them why, yet again, I could not get a real relationship going.
On Monday the 22nd of June I got home from school around 4pm. I unpacked, glanced at my homework with disdain, ignored it easily and by 5pm sat at the computer waiting. The MSN symbol remained quiet. So I got up and helped around in the kitchen, hoping it would distract my mum from why I was so anxious to stay at the computer. I couldn't let her know about Lachlan just yet.
Finally after some pathetic attempts at passing the time, I saw the bright yellow flashing of MSN, informing me that someone wanted to chat.
I sprinted the two metres and crashed into my chair.
global_youth_culture wanted to chat. My heart was soaring higher than a cloud on a hot day! We said hello and talked a little bit about our days. Around ten minutes into the conversation, Lachlan said something which made my heart stop.
"Christina, I need to talk to you about something this Friday."
My fingers froze. My heart sunk to the lowest place it could possibly imagine. I felt rejection as hard as a punch to the stomach, and he had said one sentence. He was going to tell me that we would just be friends.
Wasn't that what I wanted?
Why was I so sad? Because I wanted there to be more, despite fighting it so much. Now my "prayers" for friendship alone had been answered.
"Christina? You still there?"
"Yes, I'm here, sorry. Mum asked me to do something."
My first lie.
My first real heartbreak.
The night passed, and I introduced him to a mild, annoying habit of mine, which is to ask endless questions about any sort of surprise. I tried so desperately to find out what he wanted to tell me. I insisted that I wouldn't mind whatever it was.
He kept saying no. It had to wait. What he needed to tell me, required a face-to-face encounter, because I deserved that respect.
I spent the rest of the week in the most awful mood. I was anxious, depressed and constantly blowing things out of proportion. I wanted Friday to come so badly, but I wished it could just pass by, and everything remain as perfect as it had been two weeks earlier. Why did he have to ruin everything so quickly!?
Friday came.
I put on some nice, warm clothes and anxiously got into the car to head off to youth. When I got there, I tried my hardest not to start looking frantically all over the place for Lachlan. I think I looked more ridiculous trying to suppress the anxiety, than I would have if I had gone looking.
Somehow I managed to avoid finding him. I spent the entire first service without once speaking to him. Afterwards there was a short hour break before the next service would start. I followed my friends and sat down in the cafe area where Lachlan and another guy sat. We spent the first minutes chatting politely, and occassionally I would flush with red embarrassment every time someone made a subtle notion to Lachlan and my friendship.
Finally, he spoke to me properly.
"Christina, would you help me get something out of David's (the guy who had been sitting with him) car?"
"Sure thing." I jumped up and told myself not to screw this up. If I could prove myself by being helpful, maybe Lachlan would hold off on breaking my heart for a few more days...even weeks.
It was dark and cold outside, as winter had settled in well. We reached the car, and David popped the boot.
"Christina can you lift the boot lid up please?"
Confused as to why he couldn't do it himself, I smiled and raised the door.
With a massive scream, Matthew Orban, who had been hiding in the boot the whole time, scared the living daylights out of me! I stood there, frozen as a statue, staring at him. I couldn't scream. I was so scared, I forgot.
Meanwhile, every other person, including Pembroke, were rolling on the ground laughing hysterically.
Sure, giving me a heart attack was funny. Good one.
I wanted to kill them.
Once Lachlan had recovered from his practical joke, he motioned me over to him.
"Come to my car for a second. I want to give you something."
This was it. The moment had come. I gulped hard, nodded and slowly, sadly walked to my fate. I had never felt so depressed.
He fumbled around for a while in his glove box, looking for his gift. I stood there, trying so hard not to stare at his good-looking behind for too long, in case I was caught.
When he found the gift, he handed it to me, but told me to wait before opening it. Then he cleared his throat.
I looked at him questionly.
"Christina...I, well. I want to let...let you know. What I'm trying to say is...well, this is it basically...I really, really like you."
I was stunned. I stood there for about 3 seconds silent.
He squirmed a little waiting, and then I came back to reality; the wonderful new reality of my life.
"I really, really like you too." I laughed with relief.
"Thank goodness!" he wiped away the sweat dripping off his forehead.
I then ran back to the auditorium to find Joanne. After failing to find her, I went into the bathroom and ripped open my letter. In it he said that by the time I was reading it, he would (hopefully) be a very happy man, and very relieved. I laughed at him and his nervousness. Then he continued to say how much he looked forward to getting to know me better, despite having feelings for me. He really wanted to become my best friend and support me through my schooling, before we started to seriously think about dating.
In a way I was happy to wait, but deep down I was a little annoyed. However I knew that my parents would make me wait no matter what.
The letter was perfect and wonderful. I felt so happy!
And there it was. His confession. My confession. Our new chapter as best friends, who seriously had a super thing for each other had finally begun!
Monday, May 31, 2010
Letters
So I was an emotional wreck.
This fella had made himself completely and utterly my personal obsession. It was all his fault of course..I had found him totally repulsive only 2 weeks earlier. But he just had to ruin it. Maybe he didn't like the idea of being loathed by my awesome self? So of course he had become friendly, funny and interesting. He was smart, handsome and caring. I was only 17 now...and I was completely hooked. My thoughts were nothing, except him.
I had no idea what to do.
One: I was battling my inner self over feelings of guilt and betrayal. I had been helplessly, pathetically in love with another guy only a week before our encounter together. How could I get over him so quickly? (I now know it was because Lachlan was just...well....better)
Two: I wanted to be mature. Sounds stupid whenever someone says that. By saying i wanted to be mature, I was automatically saying that I was immature and foolish. But I wanted to be able to have him as a friend ONLY.
Three: I had no idea how to do that.
I found myself, once again in those delightful maths classes. They always seemed to be the times I most thought about Lachlan. Of course, it does explain why I failed at maths so much...
Anyways! I was sitting in this awful 45 minutes of torture, and I thought of an idea. I didn't think it would help stop me liking him, but maybe I could come across as more of a friend, than a hopeful wannabe girlfriend. Of course, thinking about it now I still think it was a stupid method. But it was all I could up with.
And a solution was becoming increasingly desperate.
*All mathematicians must now stop reading, because I am about to retell a detail which might break their hearts*
With the madness raging within me for a solution, I grabbed my hated grid paper in my book, and two seconds later....it was detached and in my hands. Grabbing a pen I began to madly write my first letter to Lachlan Pembroke.
You have no idea how hard that first letter was. So many times I stopped, re-read the whole two lines I'd written making positively sure that I was coming across as only a friend. Then I would have moments of complete anxiety where I would think about his reaction: would he freak out and think I was completely insane?
That letter was lucky to have been written. I nearly gave up so many times. But by the end of class I had finished. There it was...only a ripped, ugly piece of grid paper, with a few sentences about who knows what...asking him how he was, his opinion on maths and my delightful description of how much I hated it.
I folded it.
I drew some stupid picture on the outside.
I wrote his name in slow, deliberate and extremely neat handwriting.
Then I hid it in my pencil case, and waited until Friday.
Three slow days passed, and finally I had the chance of giving him the letter. Of course, how on earth was I going to give him this paper? If I walked up to him in public and handed it to him, I ran the risk of:
a) people humiliating me afterwards
b) him laughing at me and rejecting my writing
c) tripping over and the piece of paper falling out of my hands into someone else's hands and then dying on the floor from pure embarrassment.
If I asked him to come away privately I ran the risk of:
a) people seeing me lure him away and them begin rumours about us
b) him crushing me through rejection, and this time privately and more personally
c) tripping over on the way the 'private' spot and dying of embarrassment there, and him picking the letter out of my hand and laughing at me, while I slowly died.
So I went with the safer option: I left it on the windscreen of his car. If he read it and thought I was crazy, he could simply chuck it away and stay far away from me, because it would be too embarrassing for him to confront me over it. Of course he could tell his friends, and eventually it would come back to haunt me, but I needed to risk it. Of course, I hoped, prayed, begged to God, that he would read it, and perhaps considering writing me back.
Then it rained.
At first I didn't realise the complications of this situation, but when my mind finally caught up with my body, I FREAKED out! Forgetting all possible results which could arise from my actions, I ran up to him, and said,
"Go to your car NOW! I left you something, and it'll be ruined soon!"
And with so much enthusiasm and with the most confused, but excited smile on his face, he ran to get my letter.
And I knew in that moment, that I didn't need a letter in reply. His smile was reply enough. He was excited of my invitation to be his friend. To be his best friend.
And now I have a collection of reply letters.
This fella had made himself completely and utterly my personal obsession. It was all his fault of course..I had found him totally repulsive only 2 weeks earlier. But he just had to ruin it. Maybe he didn't like the idea of being loathed by my awesome self? So of course he had become friendly, funny and interesting. He was smart, handsome and caring. I was only 17 now...and I was completely hooked. My thoughts were nothing, except him.
I had no idea what to do.
One: I was battling my inner self over feelings of guilt and betrayal. I had been helplessly, pathetically in love with another guy only a week before our encounter together. How could I get over him so quickly? (I now know it was because Lachlan was just...well....better)
Two: I wanted to be mature. Sounds stupid whenever someone says that. By saying i wanted to be mature, I was automatically saying that I was immature and foolish. But I wanted to be able to have him as a friend ONLY.
Three: I had no idea how to do that.
I found myself, once again in those delightful maths classes. They always seemed to be the times I most thought about Lachlan. Of course, it does explain why I failed at maths so much...
Anyways! I was sitting in this awful 45 minutes of torture, and I thought of an idea. I didn't think it would help stop me liking him, but maybe I could come across as more of a friend, than a hopeful wannabe girlfriend. Of course, thinking about it now I still think it was a stupid method. But it was all I could up with.
And a solution was becoming increasingly desperate.
*All mathematicians must now stop reading, because I am about to retell a detail which might break their hearts*
With the madness raging within me for a solution, I grabbed my hated grid paper in my book, and two seconds later....it was detached and in my hands. Grabbing a pen I began to madly write my first letter to Lachlan Pembroke.
You have no idea how hard that first letter was. So many times I stopped, re-read the whole two lines I'd written making positively sure that I was coming across as only a friend. Then I would have moments of complete anxiety where I would think about his reaction: would he freak out and think I was completely insane?
That letter was lucky to have been written. I nearly gave up so many times. But by the end of class I had finished. There it was...only a ripped, ugly piece of grid paper, with a few sentences about who knows what...asking him how he was, his opinion on maths and my delightful description of how much I hated it.
I folded it.
I drew some stupid picture on the outside.
I wrote his name in slow, deliberate and extremely neat handwriting.
Then I hid it in my pencil case, and waited until Friday.
Three slow days passed, and finally I had the chance of giving him the letter. Of course, how on earth was I going to give him this paper? If I walked up to him in public and handed it to him, I ran the risk of:
a) people humiliating me afterwards
b) him laughing at me and rejecting my writing
c) tripping over and the piece of paper falling out of my hands into someone else's hands and then dying on the floor from pure embarrassment.
If I asked him to come away privately I ran the risk of:
a) people seeing me lure him away and them begin rumours about us
b) him crushing me through rejection, and this time privately and more personally
c) tripping over on the way the 'private' spot and dying of embarrassment there, and him picking the letter out of my hand and laughing at me, while I slowly died.
So I went with the safer option: I left it on the windscreen of his car. If he read it and thought I was crazy, he could simply chuck it away and stay far away from me, because it would be too embarrassing for him to confront me over it. Of course he could tell his friends, and eventually it would come back to haunt me, but I needed to risk it. Of course, I hoped, prayed, begged to God, that he would read it, and perhaps considering writing me back.
Then it rained.
At first I didn't realise the complications of this situation, but when my mind finally caught up with my body, I FREAKED out! Forgetting all possible results which could arise from my actions, I ran up to him, and said,
"Go to your car NOW! I left you something, and it'll be ruined soon!"
And with so much enthusiasm and with the most confused, but excited smile on his face, he ran to get my letter.
And I knew in that moment, that I didn't need a letter in reply. His smile was reply enough. He was excited of my invitation to be his friend. To be his best friend.
And now I have a collection of reply letters.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Just Friends
I'd be sitting in maths class allowing the highly complicated educational experience wash over me and float away forever, rather than letting it stick to me like an insane velcro attack, and I would think about the stories Lachlan had told me, and laugh. I couldn't help myself...i had to admit he was pretty funny.
However I found myself talking about him and thinking about him a lot; so much so that my friends began to wonder whether he was simply a friend, or whether he was something more. I got worried, because I began to wonder that too...could I ever just like a guy as a friend, or did I have to make things constantly complicated & weird by 'falling in love' with them after meeting them for only 5 minutes? I decided to steel myself against my retarded, helpless, emotional struggle and enjoy Lachlan as a good friend.
I decided to invite him to my 17th birthday party. Originally it was going to be held in this beautiful park, on a bright & sunny Saturday afternoon. However the weather had boycotted sunshine for that particular week, so we ended seeing Prince Caspian at Penrith Hoyts instead. I had invited about 12 people, so we took up one of the longest rows in the theatre, and were probably the loudest group there.
I sat at one end. He sat at the other. The whole time my girlfriends I was sitting with kept making obvious references to the fact that he was sitting all the way over there, making my attempts to keep him as 'just a friend' in my mind very difficult. I wanted him to sit next to me so much!
However, his positioning in the cinema was crucial if he ever wanted to remain my friend.
How?
He was sitting next to one of best friends, Joanne, and she was my biggest critic. If she approved then anything could happen. And it turns out he made for delightfully entertaining company for her as well, and she nodded approval in his direction after the event. It was an exciting moment in my life.
But I was still determined to keep him as just a friend. I couldn't afford to screw it up. I needed to figure out a way to make the friendship stay a friendship.
However I found myself talking about him and thinking about him a lot; so much so that my friends began to wonder whether he was simply a friend, or whether he was something more. I got worried, because I began to wonder that too...could I ever just like a guy as a friend, or did I have to make things constantly complicated & weird by 'falling in love' with them after meeting them for only 5 minutes? I decided to steel myself against my retarded, helpless, emotional struggle and enjoy Lachlan as a good friend.
I decided to invite him to my 17th birthday party. Originally it was going to be held in this beautiful park, on a bright & sunny Saturday afternoon. However the weather had boycotted sunshine for that particular week, so we ended seeing Prince Caspian at Penrith Hoyts instead. I had invited about 12 people, so we took up one of the longest rows in the theatre, and were probably the loudest group there.
I sat at one end. He sat at the other. The whole time my girlfriends I was sitting with kept making obvious references to the fact that he was sitting all the way over there, making my attempts to keep him as 'just a friend' in my mind very difficult. I wanted him to sit next to me so much!
However, his positioning in the cinema was crucial if he ever wanted to remain my friend.
How?
He was sitting next to one of best friends, Joanne, and she was my biggest critic. If she approved then anything could happen. And it turns out he made for delightfully entertaining company for her as well, and she nodded approval in his direction after the event. It was an exciting moment in my life.
But I was still determined to keep him as just a friend. I couldn't afford to screw it up. I needed to figure out a way to make the friendship stay a friendship.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Couch
I was sitting in a crowd of people eager to get their cups of hot tea or coffee & meat pies, after an enjoyable evening church service at my home church in Penrith, NSW Australia.
I can still remember the feel of the leather molded uncomfortably beneath my sulky behind. I sat in the middle of a crowd, and felt as if not a single person noticed me or cared about, and quite frankly I couldn't really care much less about them either. They didn't know what it was like to be "heart-broken", the way that I had been. I had been crushed and the guy I had been chasing hadn't even given me more than 5 minutes of his precious time; then he moved away and I was left with no hope of ever having a chance with him again.
I was sixteen and already my life was over.
Eventually some of my friends came and sat down next to me & tried their best at cheering me up. I refused to accept their generous companionship. I quickly excused myself because I needed to 'freshen up' in the bathroom. In reality it was a quick way out so that I could go and wallow by myself, but with a mirror this time; that way I could see the pained expression on my pathetic face, and therefore prove to myself (and to others) that there was in fact evidence of my sorrow.
Finally, after about 10 minutes of practising "My-life-is-over" face, I left the bathroom and went back to perform Part 2 with my audience. However, when I got back I was stopped short in my tracks. My seat had been taken up, and there was no longer any space for me to sit back down! I looked to the only other seat left available in our group, and to my utmost horror, the vacancy was next Lachlan Pembroke.
Lachlan Pembroke was, in my mind at the time, my sworn enemy. The previous week he had had the nerve of coming up to me and making comments about the loss of my "one true love", and how I would just have to move on because there was no longer any chance with him. And now I was expected to endure an hour of his company.
Brilliant.
Realising I had caused an awkward pause to fall over the group, because I had not yet sat down, making it blantenly obvious that I would rather be sitting on cactus plants than next to him, I quickly painted on my false "I'm-so-glad-I-get-to-sit-next-you" face, and sat down.
The chatter started up again, except between Lachlan and I. This time I deliberately allowed the awkward silence to come and make itself comfortable. Unfortunately the boy didn't like that arrangement and tried to start a conversation.
"So...Christina. How are you?"
How original.
"Fine. You?"
Lachlan jumped at the opportunity. For the next 5 minutes he told me all about his day, and how much he was enjoying the night. I just nodded, and unfortunately I cannot tell you any of the details he told me, because I didn't listen to a word he said. He then asked me what I liked to do in my spare time. I said I liked reading.
"I love reading! But I also love technology stuff, so I don't read so much. I also like to cause trouble."
Great, just what I needed. A trouble-maker.
"There was this one time, when my friend and I set my dad's shed on fire with a can of aerosol. I was 10."
Then came my "Oh-my-goodness-he's-a-crazy-person" face.
"You did what?!" I couldn't believe he was that much of a trouble maker! Little did I realise that my comment had broken down a barrier I had desperately tried defending. Now that it was down, I found myself conversing quite openly with this boy.
Eventually the hour passed and we found everyone leaving, including my family. I had to say good bye to Lachlan. I had told him so much about myself, and he too had told me many stories.
Before I left I told him about my "grand" plan to become a solo missionary in some remote location in the world. It was my solution to the fact that I had failed in the delicate art of love. His reaction took me completely by surprise.
"Don't get too excited about that idea! I really enjoyed your friendship tonight. I wouldn't want to miss out on more nights like this one."
That one word changed everything, and I forgot about the comments from the previous week. That night I realised I hadn't lost anything- I had gained something.
Friendship.
And that was how our adventures started.
I can still remember the feel of the leather molded uncomfortably beneath my sulky behind. I sat in the middle of a crowd, and felt as if not a single person noticed me or cared about, and quite frankly I couldn't really care much less about them either. They didn't know what it was like to be "heart-broken", the way that I had been. I had been crushed and the guy I had been chasing hadn't even given me more than 5 minutes of his precious time; then he moved away and I was left with no hope of ever having a chance with him again.
I was sixteen and already my life was over.
Eventually some of my friends came and sat down next to me & tried their best at cheering me up. I refused to accept their generous companionship. I quickly excused myself because I needed to 'freshen up' in the bathroom. In reality it was a quick way out so that I could go and wallow by myself, but with a mirror this time; that way I could see the pained expression on my pathetic face, and therefore prove to myself (and to others) that there was in fact evidence of my sorrow.
Finally, after about 10 minutes of practising "My-life-is-over" face, I left the bathroom and went back to perform Part 2 with my audience. However, when I got back I was stopped short in my tracks. My seat had been taken up, and there was no longer any space for me to sit back down! I looked to the only other seat left available in our group, and to my utmost horror, the vacancy was next Lachlan Pembroke.
Lachlan Pembroke was, in my mind at the time, my sworn enemy. The previous week he had had the nerve of coming up to me and making comments about the loss of my "one true love", and how I would just have to move on because there was no longer any chance with him. And now I was expected to endure an hour of his company.
Brilliant.
Realising I had caused an awkward pause to fall over the group, because I had not yet sat down, making it blantenly obvious that I would rather be sitting on cactus plants than next to him, I quickly painted on my false "I'm-so-glad-I-get-to-sit-next-you" face, and sat down.
The chatter started up again, except between Lachlan and I. This time I deliberately allowed the awkward silence to come and make itself comfortable. Unfortunately the boy didn't like that arrangement and tried to start a conversation.
"So...Christina. How are you?"
How original.
"Fine. You?"
Lachlan jumped at the opportunity. For the next 5 minutes he told me all about his day, and how much he was enjoying the night. I just nodded, and unfortunately I cannot tell you any of the details he told me, because I didn't listen to a word he said. He then asked me what I liked to do in my spare time. I said I liked reading.
"I love reading! But I also love technology stuff, so I don't read so much. I also like to cause trouble."
Great, just what I needed. A trouble-maker.
"There was this one time, when my friend and I set my dad's shed on fire with a can of aerosol. I was 10."
Then came my "Oh-my-goodness-he's-a-crazy-person" face.
"You did what?!" I couldn't believe he was that much of a trouble maker! Little did I realise that my comment had broken down a barrier I had desperately tried defending. Now that it was down, I found myself conversing quite openly with this boy.
Eventually the hour passed and we found everyone leaving, including my family. I had to say good bye to Lachlan. I had told him so much about myself, and he too had told me many stories.
Before I left I told him about my "grand" plan to become a solo missionary in some remote location in the world. It was my solution to the fact that I had failed in the delicate art of love. His reaction took me completely by surprise.
"Don't get too excited about that idea! I really enjoyed your friendship tonight. I wouldn't want to miss out on more nights like this one."
That one word changed everything, and I forgot about the comments from the previous week. That night I realised I hadn't lost anything- I had gained something.
Friendship.
And that was how our adventures started.
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