A Confession About my Interest in Guys in High School

High school beatings of my heart were lovely yet erratic, like the sound of a playful bass player on his unsynched guitar. I hopped from one crush to the other, sometimes having several subjects of attention, without fear, inhibition, or guilt. I went to great lengths to be noticed by a desired male, including dressing frivolously or behaving rather unabashedly or talking like a palengkera who has studied at St. Paul’s. Sadly, however, there are times when the target eyes and ears fail to observe, and thus, I earn the consternation of the people around for misbehavior instead.

What have I got to lose? Even boys with girlfriends are not spared. After all, they are just crushes and I don’t intend to get hitched with them. After all, the name of the game is getting noticed. That’s it! It was simply a game for me. I’d get them to notice me and after that, I would simply ignore them after a thing or two about them had turned me off.

I clearly remember a gorgeous hunk of a guy when I was in sophomore year. He had Spanish mestizo features, complete with lashes so long they curled and a nose so tall that a maya could perch on it without slipping. His lips were oh-so-cute and his golden brown hair shimmered in the sun. What a lovely sight he was in his military uniform! For months, I kept on desiring his attention in my heart while my mind was racing with ideas from the ordinary to the crazy as to how to get him to talk to me. I need to get on my project with much thinking because this was a tall objective, figuratively and literally. After all, I was just probably a mere child in the eyes of this mass of brawn in the senior year.

After several failed attempts, he finally spoke to me! Walking along the corridor of the hallowed halls of our public school late one afternoon, he picked up his pace after I walked past him. He actually asked me if he could take me home! I remember his words, “Can I walk you home?” The world stilled at that moment, and I stopped at my tracks as I mentally digested what happened. However, one thing refused to escape my notice—his voice. He gushed out the words like a car’s wheel that swallowed a nail. It was awful! So much for his voice and body, his voice was total turn off!

Ahh…college. The university offered so many fares: tall, stout, erudite, athletic, geeky, fat, thin, mestizo, kayumanggi, chinito, cono, bisaya… The list goes on.

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