Ryan.

When I was in second grade, I had a crush on this kid Ryan. He was in my class again in fifth grade and I still liked him. I was pretty forceful about it in second grade, chasing him around, drawing pictures of babies and naming the boy Ryan. I can't remember if I just wanted to name it Ryan or if I wanted his babies when we grew up. I wrote him a love note, but my mom wouldn't let me use the word love so I had to put like. Many of my baths were spent sitting in the water mixing up different soaps and shampoos trying to make some perfume-potion that smelled good that would make him love me if I thought about it hard enough while staring at the lid I mixed it in. I think I always ended up dumping it before I got out of the bath, though. I was less persistent in fifth grade, more shy about it. I'd always get super happy if we were assigned seats near each other and I'd bring extra snacks so I could give him some at snack time. We ended up becoming friends, finally, and he ended up actually liking me. Of course, by then it was the end of the year and I was moving to California a month or so after school was out. He gave me his address and I had his number. I'm not sure if he gave me the number or if I looked it up in the phone book months before. I wrote him some letters and never got a reply. I sent a christmas card. I held on to the crush for about two more years. Not actively, but it was still sort of there.

Summer after 10th grade, I was planning on moving back to Reno. I found his number in an old Pooh Bear address book I kept and gave him a call.

Five years later.

This is why I'm single.