It started, for me, in high school. When I realized that it had been much longer for you.
That day you pointed me out while waiting to be picked up in the car line in middle school. When your friends laughed. They weren't laughing at me. They were laughing because you had confided in them, that you liked me. But I thought you were making fun of me, so I walked up to you, and I said, "Don't ever do that again." You gave me the saddest look I've ever seen and ducked away. I broke your heart that day. They laughed because you were short and I was tall, and you said you liked me.
Then high school, freshman year, I was laughing about a silly hat my teacher was wearing on Hat Day. But while I was still smiling, my eyes met yours, walking down the hall. You gave me the purest, most good-natured smile with those blue eyes revealing the depth of the well of your soul. No one had ever looked at me like that, and only you have looked at me like that since. I was smitten.
Before we could drive, you had your mother allow my brother ahead of her in the carline every day you could. I noticed. After we could drive, we parked next to each other every day. We would walk by each other in the halls, then turn around and smile our sweet smiles at each other. To anyone else, it was impossible to explain. It was creepy, but not to us. To us it made sense. To us it meant the world.
But I grew impatient. You're the man, after all, so you should start the conversation, right? You're almost tall enough for me now, but unless you show me that you've grown, how can I respect you? Or am I being legalistic? Is it the time for the girl to get the relationship started? But I'm nearly as much a coward as you.
I felt things grow stale. We were waiting for something to happen that never did. And then, for you, it did. But not with me. You had me right where you wanted me, and then you gave it up. You dated that girl who asked you to escort her for homecoming a day before I asked you if you were escorting anyone. You asked my friend later why I'd asked. Come on. You knew.
But you still parked next to me the day after your heart should have left me. I even parked in a different spot to try to avoid you. I'll never understand why you did that. You broke up with her later; she was weird, after all. But when I tried to rekindle the flame in my foolishness, you just looked at me confused. Like you'd told yourself it had all been a dream.
Things went south from there. You were rude to me when I couldn't take the hint. Should I thank you? After you treated me like I was a freak, I told that other girl who sort of liked you that she could help herself. You've been with her for years, with no end in sight. Maybe you should thank me.