Lessons on love prove difficult to learn

Story by Carlye Hudspeth, Feature Editor

My love life? Not exactly something I’m proud of. It all started at the impressionable age of three.

Boy Drama Begins

“He only teases you because he likes you,” my mom said after a long day of preschool.

Well, he must like me a lot. He is kinda cute…

Between 2-6 hours later, I’d practically fallen in love. I decided that it’d only be fair to tell him how I felt. The next day, I did just that.

“I made this for you,” I said, cupping a small rock in my hands. The stone was in the shape of a lopsided heart. It had taken me almost half of recess to find, and the other half I’d spent painting it with mud.

A grimace shot across his face.

“Girls have cooties,” he said as he snatched the rock from my hands. I watched as he threw it into a cluster of trees nearby.

From that day forward, I decided to never communicate with the male species unless absolutely necessary.

Kindergarten Crush

“Okay, kids. Go to recess.”

Mrs. Heath’s class raced out of the kindergarten building onto the playground. I stood beside the swings, scanning the field. Where is he? I heard a familiar voice to the left.

“Let’s go look for roly-polies!” he said. His brown eyes, brown hair, small stature, and chubby face resembled that of a chipmunk’s. I made my way towards him, pigtails bobbing with every step I took.  A few seconds later, we were standing face-to-face.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“No. I’m already married.”

“To who?”


Scarlett Stussy was the most popular girl in preschool. She had straight blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a 64 pack of crayons. How could I compete?

A True Gentleman

As I walked to Art class, I noticed my crush only a few paces in front of me. He was one of the tallest boys in the whole third grade, wore gobs of gel in his hair, and was the best kickball player I’d ever seen. I awkwardly skipped next to him and said the first thing that came to mind.

“What’s up?”

For the next few minutes, I tried to sound cute and cool. I giggled when I was supposed to, listened to him talk about his Yugio collection, and grimaced when he brought up the topic of cafeteria food. Just as I started talking about the school’s fish sticks, he interrupted me.


While engaged in our conversation, I had failed to see a huge cement pillar a few yards away from the Art building. I hit this pillar head-on and fell to the ground because of the impact. Instead of helping me up, my crush laughed and ran ahead to tell our fellow classmates what he’d just seen. What a gentleman.

That day, my mom took me to the doctor. He said I’d broken my nose. I couldn’t believe that I’d broken a bone in effort to impress my third-grade crush. At that point, I decided that all boys were evil, and to avoid marrying one, I’d become a nun.

Pimple-Faced Preteens

I stood outside the hallway wearing gauchos, tube socks, and a TMS t-shirt. My hair was only halfway straightened, causing abnormal amounts of frizz to form. My eyebrows were un-tweezed and bushier than most guys’ in my class. I wasn’t the cutest kid in the seventh grade.

And then there was him; A blue-eyed, blonde-haired, pimple-faced god. He had barely said four words to me, but his lack of interest didn’t deter me.

As I stood in the hallway, I saw him talking to a group of friends a few meters away. A half second later, our eyes met. He flashed a smile and waved. I waved back enthusiastically. He started walking toward me.

Oh my gosh! He’s walking this way! What do I do?

“Hey,” he said in his deep, cool voice.

“Hey,” I replied, but not nearly as coolly as he. Somewhere between the h and the y, my voice cracked. On top of that, I heard a voice behind me echo mine. I turned around and saw a skinny Hollister-wearing girl staring at me. Realizing that the wave wasn’t intended for me, I turned tomato-red.

“Ummmm… I gotta go,” I said awkwardly. As I shuffled away, I heard laughter trailing behind me. Smooth.

The Era of Facebook

When I was younger, I was positive that my dream guy would fall out of the sky during my first year of high school. As a junior, I now know that this phenomena is unlikely.

Instead of the appearance of the romance I’d hoped for, I discovered that many high school boys were no better than the middle schoolers, except now they had a Facebook. Don’t get me wrong, I think that Facebook is great. The problem is when it’s in the hands of weird, old, and/or creepy males. For instance;

Me: Heyy. Do I know you?

Weird older dude I’ve never before spoken to: No…but u can get to know me 😉

delete from friends.

Trying to start a relationship via Facebook makes a guy about as macho as a salad bar.

I’m not asking for Mr. Perfect. I now know he doesn’t exist. At this point, I’m just hoping for a Mr. Semi-Normal.