I used to stare at the sun often when I was a child. Brian and I would just lay down together, sometimes in grass, sometimes on the pavement outside of Col. John Stuart, staring at the sun and talking.
Brian was my best friend for my first 6 years in Nova Scotia. In fact, my relationship with him is the only one that lasted as long as the relationship I'm currently in. Sometimes, I go through my memories and I think Brian was my first love, except there were no romantic or sexual feelings. The one and only time he kissed me (he was the first boy I kissed), I slapped him across the face and ran home crying. I was 11. I still remember the conversation I had with my mother when she asked me what was wrong. My response makes me think I must've been older than 11. But I guess I do have an old soul.
"Brian kissed me."
"Well, Crystal, why are you upset? Is that a bad thing? I thought you liked Brian."
"Yeah, but he's my friend. It just felt so gross. I don't think of him that way. Now I feel uncomfortable. I don't want this to ruin our friendship. He's like a brother to me."
It did wreck our friendship. I told him I had a crush on his friend, and our friendship petered away. We only really saw each other a few times after that and the last time I saw him was grade 9. The last time I saw him, he was actually tinier than me. I feel bad for a man that's tinier than me. They develop little man syndrome.
But boy oh boy did we have good times together while we had times together. His mother baby-sat me. We had the chickenpox together, missing school, watching TV and scratching together. We built forts, climbed trees, threw rocks at people and apples at cars. When we went somewhere with his mother or mine, people always thought we were twins and we would pretend we were. Although we were both blond, we both wanted tattoos and black hair. We looked at porn together. We swore at people together. We shoplifted together, and when he found out I was uncomfortable with stealing, he would let me wait outside. He knew what I liked, and thus knew what to steal for me. We ganged up on a local bully and kicked his ass together, because neither of us could do it alone. We bullied people lower than us on the social ladder, together. He taught me how to jay-walk and how to belch on command. We jumped on his bed. We watched much music and astro boy. We watched horror movies and he would futilely try to gross me out as we ate. We did things I can't even remember now.
But once he kissed me, it was all ruined.
But it doesn't keep me from wondering about him at times. Is he outta jail yet? Is he back in? How many kids does he have now? [I was told by someone when I was 17 that he already had 2 different girls pregnant.] Does he ever think about me? Is he even still alive?
Brian was my best friend for my first 6 years in Nova Scotia. In fact, my relationship with him is the only one that lasted as long as the relationship I'm currently in. Sometimes, I go through my memories and I think Brian was my first love, except there were no romantic or sexual feelings. The one and only time he kissed me (he was the first boy I kissed), I slapped him across the face and ran home crying. I was 11. I still remember the conversation I had with my mother when she asked me what was wrong. My response makes me think I must've been older than 11. But I guess I do have an old soul.
"Brian kissed me."
"Well, Crystal, why are you upset? Is that a bad thing? I thought you liked Brian."
"Yeah, but he's my friend. It just felt so gross. I don't think of him that way. Now I feel uncomfortable. I don't want this to ruin our friendship. He's like a brother to me."
It did wreck our friendship. I told him I had a crush on his friend, and our friendship petered away. We only really saw each other a few times after that and the last time I saw him was grade 9. The last time I saw him, he was actually tinier than me. I feel bad for a man that's tinier than me. They develop little man syndrome.
But boy oh boy did we have good times together while we had times together. His mother baby-sat me. We had the chickenpox together, missing school, watching TV and scratching together. We built forts, climbed trees, threw rocks at people and apples at cars. When we went somewhere with his mother or mine, people always thought we were twins and we would pretend we were. Although we were both blond, we both wanted tattoos and black hair. We looked at porn together. We swore at people together. We shoplifted together, and when he found out I was uncomfortable with stealing, he would let me wait outside. He knew what I liked, and thus knew what to steal for me. We ganged up on a local bully and kicked his ass together, because neither of us could do it alone. We bullied people lower than us on the social ladder, together. He taught me how to jay-walk and how to belch on command. We jumped on his bed. We watched much music and astro boy. We watched horror movies and he would futilely try to gross me out as we ate. We did things I can't even remember now.
But once he kissed me, it was all ruined.
But it doesn't keep me from wondering about him at times. Is he outta jail yet? Is he back in? How many kids does he have now? [I was told by someone when I was 17 that he already had 2 different girls pregnant.] Does he ever think about me? Is he even still alive?
posted by crystal at
3:17 pm
1 Comments:
I don't actually remember teaming up against the bully, but my mother still tells the story whenever my childhood comes up. I guess it was a big part in how we became friends. The bully picked on us each individually and we clued in that we could get him together. Mom says it was Jason from across the street. That makes sense. Sometimes I wonder if it was Mike (which I only bring up because I find it funny).
By
crystal, at 2/3/07 10:14 pm
Post a Comment
<< Home