Inside the Mind of a Pre-Pubescent boy: Love

I fell in and out of love at a very young age. It was the kind of love you only find once in a lifetime.

Her name was Kelly. I still remember the first time I laid eyes upon her. The image is branded into my psyche forever, for she was the most beautiful creature to ever grace this planet. At least she was to a horny 4 year-old.

It was the first day of pre-school, 1995. Microsoft had just released Windows 95, eBay was founded, and the early stages of the media format we now know as DVD were announced. Amidst all of these technological revolutions, a funny thing happened. I fell victim to one of the most primitive and personal feelings one human being can feel for another. Love.

Walking hand-in-hand with my mother, we ascended the steps to my pre-school. All it is was the classroom in the very south-western corner of Blaine Elementary school, segregated from the higher class ankle biters. As we approached the door, an eerie hum of activity buzzed through the air. The sound was muffled enough to mask the point of origin, yet still bold enough to let it be known that "something wicked this way comes." Having reached the end of our ascension, my mother guided me to the door, which looked like it had been designed to keep something potentially dangerous inside, rather then provide access to a classroom. It ran through my mind that maybe they were keeping velociraptors in captivity here, and the activity I was hearing was the pack ravaging the carcass of some large animal. Perhaps a bison. Or my fellow classmates. Maybe this wasn't a school at all! Maybe this was where parents took their unwanted children to offer up as raptor feed, in exchange for a small sum of money! Fuck!

As my mom grabbed the handle and lurched open the door, we were pummeled by an aural/visual assault. Screaming children were bouncing off eachother like pinballs, destroying everything in their paths. Parents and teachers alike were frantically attempting to bring the chaos down to a neutral level. Crayons and coloring books were hurled through the air, body parts (from toys, of course) littered the floor, and it smelled like an odd combination of apple cider and feces. Like someone had used an entire can of Apple Cinnamon Febreeze in a gas station bathroom.

And then I saw her. Sitting by the window, dressed in a white dress that made my post-toddler era weiner go into a frenzy, we made eye contact for the first time. She smiled at me, and had I been about 7 years more mature, I would have busted a nut right then and there. Traumatized, I froze in place and contemplated my next move. Do I assert my masculinity and roundhouse one of the crazed 4 year-old boys running around? Do I spit my game and ask her if she wants to play Doctors with me? Or do I play the hard to get card by crawling around on the floor looking up the dresses of all the other girls but her? Being the inept decision maker that I was at that age, I opted to take the surveillance approach for awhile.

And so for the rest of the week, I kept my distance. During nap-time, I would snag a vantage point near her and watch her sleep (creepy little fucker, wasn't I?). At snack-time, when we were served apple slices, peanut-butter crackers and Hi-C juice boxes, I would sit near her, but always have a one person gap between the two of us. I was infatuated with Kelly.

Finally, after 6 days of preperation I went in for the kill. Here's how it went.

Me: Umm...hi Kelly.
Kelly: Hi Matthew.
Me: Umm...you know my name?
Kelly: Yes, I know everyone's name.
Me: Oh...umm...do you want to dig holes in the sand?
Kelly: Yeah.

Sadly, my small talk is still at the same level it was then, but it did the trick. Kelly and I were inseperable. For the rest of the year, we ate every meal together, took every nap together, and even pooped together once. But as the program was coming to an end, Kelly shattered my entire universe. The love of my life informed me that she would be moving up a grade due to her advanced mental capabilities. We would not be able to see eachother anymore. Reluctantly, I let her go. I never saw her again after that fated year in pre-school.

I learned a valuable lesson that year. If you love someone, set them free. If they return then they're yours, but if they don't then they can fuck off and die.