Damn, I felt pathetic just writing this. Okay, so I want to start off by saying, this was not my intention from the start, to write a blog. In fact, I started writing about all that happened to me not too long ago (I guess people are right in that I am a nerd with no life). It all started two days after my French individual orals. I was sitting at my desk when I saw that we had to do a Journal Intime. Fuck that….I ain’t about to write a diary on why my best friend is the best since she be ballin with drugs, I just can’t. So I decided to write about how I felt to be rejected for the third fucking time in high school (really guys, am I that unbearable????). The doc had no grammar, no flow, no structure, but it had my hurt, my raw emotions. So now, without further delay, Mr.X.
I remember falling in well, you know, “that word” with Mr.X’s paintings before I got to know him. When I first transferred to academic prison, I had no friends so naturally, I had to go out and make some. One day I was early to Professor Peitit Brown Einstein’s class (BTW I want to keep the record straight in that I never cheated in that class. You know how I know because a) If you haven’t fuckin realized it by now, I can’t see very far to be able to cheat off someone and b) I don’t fuckin have to cheat cause I study my ass off. If you fuckin hate me so much, insult me like a man, don’t go being a pussy and start up rumors) so I got to talk to Mr.19/20. We were talking about a French project that they had to do when the topic of Mr.X came up when I mentioned to Mr.19/20 that I was Tamil (yes I am, my mom is just so fuckin light that I came out looking like milk chocolate). Now I just knew him as the guy who sat in the back of the class that had the honest to god, sexy British accent. We were talking and “speak of the devil and the devil arrives,” Mr.X came up to us and introduced himself to me. Now, this is what really happened to me. The class faded, Mr.19/20’s voice seemed to be so distant. It just felt like it was him and me alone in the entire universe. As his gaze held mine I felt a spark, a spark that ignited a fire in my heart (no it was not a heart burn). I felt like I knew him my entire life yet I’m meeting him for the first time. It’s explicable yet inexplicable at the same time. God, I am such a hopeless romantic. I really did make the effort to get to know him, but I just didn’t really know him through him (that was what Mr.Hotstuff was for). So in the end, I just admired Mr.X from afar all first semester of grade 9.
The second semester of grade 9 was a different story though. Mr.X and I were in math together. His table group was right beside the one I was sitting at. Although most of the time I would be talking to Mr.NBA, I never forgot about Mr.X’s presence. We had our moments whether it be writing “Megan Fox” all over Mr.NBA’s binder with liquid white out, or hiding our under Mr.X’s desk to get whiteout on Mr.NBA’s pants [1) I realized that we messed with Mr.NBA a lot in grade 9 and 2) crawling under Mr.X’s desk has a whole new connotation from when it was just a harmless act]. I really started learning about Mr.X through the construction of a hot air balloon as part of a side project in math class. I learned about his love for cars, his precise artistic (well the precision part can be taken in two ways, but I’m sticking with the innocent definition) ability, but not about his uhhh “dark” side. That was when I also learned about Bootylicious (honest to god, you are soooo pretty), whom he liked for some time now. You should have seen my face, I went from, let’s glue that flap of parchment to the other side, to there is a wood cutter right beside me, take back your words or I’m going to run your neck through it. I kind of went into brainfart mode because I almost didn’t understand him when he asked me “So Scarlet, who do you like?” Obviously, I should tell him that I like him right? No, wrong, you don’t! So I did what every girl does when she finds out that bae is into another girl, you lie. Oh, Scarlet, you never learn from your mistakes, do you? So for a couple of days, I kept on teasing him, to the point where he was practically begging to know. This was just so that I can come up with someone believable. Then it struck me, in grade 9, every girl had a huge crush on Mr.CuteAfro. Tall, smart, cute, and the perfect decoy, so I finally told him that I had a crush on Mr.CuteAfro (sorry about that). I was off the hook, but he did threaten to tell Mr.CuteAfro that I “liked” him. You see if he did, and if you know who you are Mr.CuteAfro, well now you know the truth. So you see, I Scarlet Ramerez was too late, Mr.X liked another girl.
Forget about grade 10, that was a weird year…
Okay, now we come to grade 11. Let’s start from the time I was at the bridge. Honest to god, I did not expect to see Mr.X come up there, it just happened. He would come up, we would talk for a bit, and he would go back downstairs (did he go to the washroom to jack off or something?). Oh, this was when I learned the ugly truth, Mr.X really was perverted. All he would talk to me about was sex (including intercourse), dick, and turning all of my comments into a porn fanfic. But you know what they say, love is blind, and you are filled with a dust storm of desires. I really liked him and I continue to hold this complex of the gentleman version of him in my heart. So as the months went by I grew more desperate to tell him that I like him (by then the Red Bull Bimbos, Bananas, Mr.Cauliflower, Mr.Player, Rolex, and Mr.CoolBeans all knew). They urged me to tell him the day before Christmas break, but I wimped out like the wussy that I was. Thus, in the face of an unfortunate event, Mr.CoolBeans did what any wingman would do and got me Mr.X’s number so that I can text him over the break.
It all started with hey. This three letter infamous word is what I have formulated, rendered and composed for an hour. The perfect orchestration that displays a casual tone and balances the finite scale between being friendly and being an outright psychopath, a stalker if you may. As my thumb reluctantly hovered around the send icon all rectangular and shit, almost as if it were taunting me. A bit exaggerated you may think. Well not for a 16-year-old girl lazily sitting behind the cash counter of the hospital gift shop on a dreary Saturday afternoon. But when that heyyy came back 30 seconds later, I just wanted to get up on that counter and break out into song. We talked for a bit about Christmas shopping, his family, and shit until a customer came in and the convo ended with it. I really never got a chance to talk to Mr.X after that day (properly), because for the rest of the break I was sick and hospitalized with the flu that just wouldn’t get the fuck away from me. Mr.CoolBeans was beyond disappointed with me; sorry 😦
Fast forward to the second semester. By now, I was four, five seconds from whining, because I just couldn’t keep in for much long. 3 fuckin years, it’s hard, just as how it is hard to hold in piss for 8 fuckin hours (I did that once, I peed for a good 10 minutes that day). So I tried a new tactic, it was called “do you get my hint.” I would talk to him about relationships, talk about the guy that I like in front of him (uh hello, I’m talking about you, you dumb piece of shit), and many more hints for a good month. By now the Red Bull Bimbos were so done with me because they know that it is better to let it out than keep it in (thanks for that, I say sarcastically). I’m quite a genius because I just took advice from a guy who never got a girlfriend and a guy who had problems of his own. The day before I told Mr.X, I had his jacket on (the really comfy one) because to be fair it was a very cold day. I wore the jacket all through math class and all. Bananas and Mr.Cauliflower were so happy from me (hold up guys, I’m about to do something so stupid that you would regret that moment of praise).
The final frontier…The next day we were sitting on the bridge when Mr.Blueberry was having a crisis. He was having problems telling a girl that he liked that he likes her. I told him so stupidly, “Just tell her, be a man!” That was when Mr.Sexy interjected and said, “Well Scarlet it has been 3 months since you told us you like Mr.X, why don’t you tell him today?!” The stupid person I was who doesn’t back away from a challenge (I once licked a shoe that was rubbed against a dumpster), I said, “fine, if he comes up here before the end of lunch, then I will tell him.” To my luck it was 11:46 and he still wasn’t here so I just believed it to be a sign and danced. That was when Mr.Flathead came up. Mr.Sexy asked him where Mr.X was and he said that he was in the library. To my dismay, Mr.Sexy got Mr.Flathead along with Mr.blueberry to go down and get him up ASAP (fuck you both). So finally Mr.X did come up in a rush, and the idiots all left. It was just me and him. I was like fate if you really do exist reverse time right now. I ran my hand through my hair as I told him in a panicked voice, “uhhh you know uhh how I said that I liked a guy, umm well that guy is you.” Real smooth Scarlet. He gave me an ever so slight smile and said: “I know.”
WTF, you were trolling with me. I fuckin wanted to smash his skull in two. So he let me suffer like that. What if I never told him, would that mean that he would just sit back and watch me make a fool out of myself. I think my vocals were very loud because the guys on the other side heard me. He fuckin messed with me. How could he do that to me? I mean you could have told me sooner. I can’t, I just can’t, it still hurts. I wasn’t even hurt when he said that I was like a friend to him. It hurt that he would play with my emotions like that. Not cool Mr.X. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain, you never thought to listen to what this girl has to say. So now I started to make this blog so that you could listen. I’m tired of always being rejected, am I weird, or crazy or a little bit of both, I don’t know, but this was the only way I can get you to hear me out. Look, I like you a lot, not for your looks, not for your undesirable qualities, I like you because I see a little bit of me in you. Okay, I admit the way I told you that I liked you was not the most ideal way, but just because I hang out with a bunch of guys does not mean you can assume my gender and treat me like one of the guys. I have balls I must admit, especially in the ability to tell someone you like them. BUT I CAN’T….I’m sick and tired of guys giving me stupid reasons for why they can’t go out with me; “you’re too smart,” “I only ever saw you as a friend,” “But you’re not like her, and she’s thicc.” What a bunch of bull shit. You don’t see a good thing when it fuckin hits you in the face. Mr.X I hope you know, although I may be cool with this on the outside, I’m seething with pain on the inside, there is only so much rejection a girl can take at this point.