Memories...

My high school boyfriend was a sweet boy. I met him when I was on the staff for the literary magazine and he seemed to like me. He wasn't really my type, though I guess in retrospect he kind of was since all of my boyfriends, at first glance, seem gay. He was a very large half-Arab and I didn't think he was particularly cute, but I figured when you're 15 you need a boyfriend, so why the hell not. He would pick me up in his mom's Toyota and we'd go out for ice cream or dinner, or to a movie because I worked at the movie theater and we could get in for free. A year or so into the relationship, the dates were mostly driving around until we found somewhere to park and then boning in the car, but I digress.

J was quite into movies, and had maybe seen too many of them. Or maybe read his sister's Cosmo or something. But he was really into being a Good Boyfriend. He always had flowers for me, or teddy bears, or love letters. He would write me poems, draw pictures of me, and was unfailingly kind and devoted. And I hated it. It embarrassed me, probably in part because I thought of him as my practice boyfriend. I wasn't popular in school or anything, but J was definitely not one of the 57 boys I had a crush on, and I had never even seen him around until we had those meetings together. I was happy to have a boyfriend, I just...wasn't that into him, I guess.

J had a friend Paul, whose father had died and left Paul a bunch of money. I think his dad probably wanted the money to go towards school, but instead Paul spent it on a bunch of shit for his computer and continued to live at home well into his 20s, and possibly even does to this day. For Valentine's Day, J wrote me a song and then he and Paul recorded it with the fancy computer shit and made me a cd. It had backing vocals and samples and all sorts of ridiculous keyboarding and effects. J was so proud of it and when he presented it to me I think he was expecting me to sob with gratitude. Or maybe just beej him with gratitude. When you're 18, either is okay. I think I looked at it with a smirk on my face and said something like, "Oh cool. I'll um, listen to this later. When I'm alone." I did listen to it later, once. Ever. Even though I was alone in my room, I blushed and fidgeted. He was soulfully singing to me, his "precious pearl." I remember one of the lines was, "...and you look real hot."

I know it was supposed to be sweet. Most girls were jealous; not so much of J himself, but that he was soooo into me. I know I should have been swooning and grateful, but instead it just embarrassed the piss out of me. I guess I didn't feel worthy of such affection given how I mainly just wanted him to remove that pesky virginity before I hit college. Or maybe things that seem sweet in movies are actually kind of creepy in real life? I don't know.

None of my other boyfriends have been quite so demonstrative with their love. E told me he loved me on our first date, which I think was actually his First Date. I guess that should have been a gigantic red, flashing flag but nope! After J I assumed every relationship was intense. Whoops. Now 3 years in with Zach, I couldn't tell you the last time he bought me flowers, and he definitely never wrote me a song. But sometimes when he goes to the Market he brings me back cookies, and whenever he goes to Canada he brings me some Kinder Eggs. I much prefer romantic gestures that are edible, I think is the lesson here.