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Home » Question of the Week » Teenage Crushes - Part Two » Post 562450 | Search
This is a question Teenage Crushes - Part Two

Freddie Woo writes: I've still got weird feelings for a well-known female TV presenter from the 1980s. I'm now in my forties, work in the same building as her and she follows me on a number of social networking sites. And now, she knows about it.

Tell us about the teenage crushes that still make you go wobbly.

(, Thu 5 Nov 2009, 11:04)
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I suppose I should get around to
posting the conclusion to this
www.b3ta.com/questions/teenagecrushes/post561226
So, please read that first if you haven't already. Again, it's a long post, so it's in the reply.
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 11:12, 12 replies)
This was on the Thursday.
I had to suffer the Friday at school, hoping that I wouldn't bump into her. I knew that because Geography was the only lesson we shared, the only risk of our paths crossing would be in between lessons. During the morning break, I saw her going into one of the school buildings. The crippling mortification I had felt when cycling to school that morning waned to mere shame with just that brief sighting.

I knew I couldn't approach her, not with shame like the Sword of Damocles itself hanging over me and that I must avoid her completely, which I managed to do by following her into the same building but through different doors. There, at the far end of the corridor sitting on some benches outside the English room was Angie. I yearned to go over and sit with her. The struggle between my shame and my aching to be with her, just to be in her company with her acknowledgement was driving me crackers. I tried to reason with myself. She didn't seem hurt, offended or put out in any way when I asked her on a date. It's highly likely she would've said no, no matter where I'd asked her to go with me. I came to the conclusion that I ought to go over and see how she reacts. I set off walking, but it felt awkward. My nerves had crept up on me unawares and now I was walking with somebody else's legs.

I got 10 paces before a teacher collared me. 'Sandettie, can you just help me shift this?"

"but, I'm.. ok then" I wasn't a defiant kid at school, so I agreed, hoping it wouldn't take long. I helped the teacher and left him to it. By the time I got back into the corridor, Angie was gone. I dashed down the corridor, peering into each classroom, but she wasn't there. I had lost her. Was it relief or lament I felt? I couldn't say. All I know was that my mind was elsewhere all day. I ran that scenario through my mind over and over again, changing things, different outcomes.

The end of the day came, I retrieved my bike and set off home. As I cycled past the mass of kids waiting at the bus stop, I saw her standing near the kerb across the road waiting to get on the bus. Not only had I seen her, she had seen me and any remorse I had felt that day was instantly shattered by her smile and a wave. I cycled home, my stomach fluttering like never before.

That weekend dragged and dragged, I thought it would never end. I even caught up on my homework, just to pass the time but finally Monday morning came around and I set off. Not on bike, I was going on bus. It was the same service that she had boarded on the Friday. I got on the bus and made my way to the back, but she wasn't on it. But no worries, she would be in Geography that morning.

I entered the classroom and noticed that the AV equipment had gone and her desk had returned. My heart twinged. I knew that lightning doesn't strike twice. I watched the door like a hawk, and finally she came in. I caught myself smiling which must've looked really odd seeing as I was sitting alone. She put her bag on her desk, then looked my way, smiled and came and sat with me again. I gasped. I couldn't believe my luck. I was trembling again, my stomach was doing back flips and I had goose pimples. She mouthed the word 'Hiya', smiled and started getting stuff of her bag.

'I've missed you" I blurted out before I could stop myself. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but stable doors and bolting horses and all that. What had I done? Why did I say that? I sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, staring at her in horror. She chuckled and said I was sweet. (She never actually said the words, but she mouthed it and I think my brain filled in the audio). I was sweet! That was first base as far as I was concerned. I was ecstatic. That, I think, was the ice-breaker. It had been like the build up to Christmas, and at that moment, it was like opening the present and finding the Technics Lego I had always wanted. I felt so much more comfortable with her after that point. My nerves were conquered.

From then on began an unconventional relationship. The usual protocol was that a boy/girl asked someone out (or gets a friend to do the legwork), then the couple spend the next few weeks kissing on street corners and generally walking the streets hand in hand. That was the case with my peers anyway. We were different, it was much more subtle. I still got the butterflies whenever I met her. Just seeing her smile would melt all my problems away. She gave me feelings of rapture I had never, NEVER experienced before. An exaltation that was intoxicating. She would sit with me in geography and on the bus home after school.

My mates would ask me if I was going out with her. There had been no official "will you go out with me" and so I just told them no. Not officially anyway. A couple of evenings and the Saturday each week, her parents would be out and I'd go keep her company. Now, had it been any other girl, the prospect of gaining access to the enchanted triangle would be paramount. However, this wasn't the case with Angie and I. We would snuggle up on the sofa and watch TV. I would play with her hair and stroke her neck and she'd sigh with contentment.

Don't get me wrong, her proximity, her scent and the fact that she would stroke my inner thigh meant that I would often be harbouring a boner. I was 15, I would be abnormal if I didn't. When that was the case, she used to trace her hand up from my thigh, over the top of my jeans, up my shirt and stroke my chest then back down to my thigh. That would take my breath away, but there was no sense, no suggestion, not even a hint that it would go any further. It was just nice and relaxing. Cosy. We had our own little bubble of serenity and all was well with the world.

When she told me that she would be moving away, I was devastated. It felt like I had been kicked in the stomach by a racehorse. Even though I knew it wouldn't last forever, our time together did seem everlasting. Letting go was hard. Very hard. It ripped it out of me something awful. We met up together for the last time and we sat on her sofa, cuddled up like so often before. Finally, all too quickly, the time came for me to leave for the last time. I held her close, brushed her hair from her face and looked into her eyes:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate

...
...
...
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee

The last few lines were the hardest. It's hard to recite prose when you have a lump in your throat. We embraced for a long time. I was doing better at hiding my heartbreak than she. She looked up, her eyes red, occasionally hitching with grief.

Something inside me died that day, a light extinguished, a flame snuffed out. I went home and felt fine. I told myself it wasn't too bad, I've gotten over it. I had my tea, watched TV, played Manic Miner for a bit. Once I got into bed and turned the light out, it hit me. It hit me good and hard, like a train. I lay there in the dark and sobbed my heart out for a good two hours. Had it not have been the Easter holidays, I couldn't have coped with school, seeing her old seat in Geography, empty. I spent the next ten days as an empty shell, on auto-pilot. But, as the old adage goes, time is a great healer. There was no point in exchanging phone numbers and although I wrote to her at her new address, I never received a reply.

It took two years before I found someone that special again and even after been together for twenty years, Mrs SLVA still makes me feel like a teenager again.
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 11:16, closed)
*sniffs*


Takes me right back to every teenage heartache I ever had :-/
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 11:23, closed)
Wow, heart-warming stuff
I predict a winner here.

Didn’t you ever try to get back in touch though, try to trace her somehow?
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 12:47, closed)
I don't think Mrs SLVA would be too happy with that
But then again he could ask her to join them
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 12:52, closed)
Dunno what happened to her
Never heard from her since. To be honest, I can't remember her last name so there's not a chance I could find her even if I wanted to.
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 13:52, closed)
So
you didn't bang her then?
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 12:51, closed)
Well
this is really lovely! Great post, well written and pretty much sums up the whole teenage crush thing perfectly. Nice work, sir!
(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 13:20, closed)
I thang yew sir

(, Mon 9 Nov 2009, 13:51, closed)
Just perfect......
Click
(, Tue 10 Nov 2009, 14:54, closed)

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