Esse est percipi

Pre-College Issues High School Life
1

<p>Part II</p>

<p>It's time to close the books. Cut my losses. It's over. Surprisingly, my heart isn't heavy; instead, it feels as though a burden has been lifted. I'm surprisingly free - unbounded, unshackled, and unchained. </p>

<p>This fanciful "her" to whom I have continually referred, and embellished, has herself stripped the facade and the veneer which I applied so liberally. </p>

<p>She perceived me today, but whether I existed to her is doubtful. I searched her extended glance today for something - anything - yet I found nothing. I waved, but I doubt she even began to perceive it; she sort of looked in my direction with a simple smile on her face. Even the most desperate of persons would have found nothing - sure, there was a smile, but that was one lingering from something else; it was not an initiated one. </p>

<p>There was no face full of knowing. The face I saw was not one that betrayed the knowledge of whatever awkwardness that had transgressed between us earlier; there was simply an almost child-like smile, one devoid of meaning. It was as if the slate had been completely wiped; that I had never existed; that I had been erased from her memory, and that my existence had only started today, as a complete stranger, waving to her, for no apparent reason. </p>

<p>My immediate feeling was one of relief, rather than surprise, or disappointment, or heartbreak. Finally, I could move on. Finally, I could stop worrying about whatever faux pas I had committed in chasing her and what she might have thought of them. Finally, I could stop feeling self-conscious - was I good enough for her? Was I this? Was I that? Oh the pressure - if only I could relate the pressure of the pretense I had imposed upon myself ... this invented reality ... perhaps the following account of events today will help. It is in chronological order. </p>

<p>I remember that as I walked into my Calculus class today, I was almost scared to look around. Would she be there? I only signed up for BC so that I could have that one in whatever chance to be together with her for another year. But now I dreaded the thought of being with her. It wasn't real; it clearly was a one-way street. Sequestering the two of us in one room would only complicate matters. </p>

<p>Only after 5 minutes could I force my eyes sweep the class. The pressure, the pretense, the falsehood had grown too large for me to handle. Fortunately, she wasn't there. I was partially relieved. The pressure was fully relieved when I encountered her later at lunch today, during which she looked in my general direction with that blank smile I described above. It was over for her as much as it was for me. All that had transpired had been forgotten. Thank goodness. Now perhaps I can stop slinking around the halls trying to avoid her. Now perhaps I can stop raving on CC about her. </p>

<p>And perhaps now I can move on in matters. She'll just be a footnote in this great life of mine. And perhaps now I can finish my freshly assigned Calculus homework instead of writing and editing this essay.</p>

2

<p>Bro I don’t think she’s into you.</p>

3

<p>Astute observation, but surprisingly, I’m relieved.</p>

4

<p>It is relief isn’t it?
When finally you stop liking the him (or in your case her) that caught your attention. The unrequited fancy you were almost ashamed to mention aloud. Maybe eye contact was made- or Merlin forbid a few words exchanged. I talk to people all the time and hardly ever do they linger in my mind as much as they do with the /him/. It’s not as if he’s truly more attractive, smart or interesting. My initial attraction was most probably a lack of anything for my brain to obsess over. A smile at the exact right time. Then everything else follows. The half asleep fantasies, desperate attempts at flirting and obvious nerves.
Suddenly it stops. For whatever reason (Perhaps you notice he’s a player and you weren’t ever really a piece in the game) it stops mattering. Then l, for whatever insane reason, you need to prove how much you don’t care. Spiteful comments in his direction, deliberately averted eyes and (my personal favorite) flirting with one of his friends.
Yay, though! It is a great feeling when you are no longer infatuated with a being who doesn’t even care you exist! <3</p>

5

<p>I don’t want to sound rude, because I do enjoy reading your writing on here, but couldn’t you have just said “I got over a girl who doesn’t know I exist”? I personally think that would have been a fine and much easier read than the essay you wrote. </p>

<p>Sent from my DROID RAZR using CC</p>

6

<p>^
But where’s the fun in that?</p>

7

<p>We “met” today, if the word can be so construed. Fortunately, there was a small crowd, so we weren’t forced to stand together in silence. </p>

<p>We were a few feet apart. I glanced. She was looking in my general direction. I quickly averted my gaze and scanned the area behind me for someone - anyone - to speak with. I tried to appear nonchalant. </p>

<p>She brushed past me as she left the small crowd. How different it was. No longer did I try to gaze into her eyes as to initiate conversation or just to lose myself in those eyes. Instead, I glanced down at my shoes. Oh look - a mud stain. Cold indifference. Exterior apathy. And, to a large extent - apathy within. </p>

<p>We had once known each other. Now, I barely perceive her - always averting my eyes. She never returned that book I loaned her. But that’s all right. Keep it. Perhaps it’ll remind you of me one day, when you see my scrawled cursive on the inside cover. My delicate sentiments, transcribed to the inside cover of that book. That book, autographed by me. Perhaps you’ll one day recall this poor fellow’s pseudo-altruism, this bloke’s inscrutable advances. But you’ll never realize what was never said or written; you’ll never realize how much you meant to me (at least, for those few months). And you’ll never realize what was transcribed but never delivered; looking through my old binders, I found the other day two lick-sealed envelopes that never made it to your desk in the mornings last year. These letters must be at least three months old. Perhaps one day I’ll open them and read them myself, and recall just exactly what I wrote. Perhaps - when I need a good laugh ;). </p>

<p>I now understand that we are to sail our own, separate, paths, and I harbor no resentment. We’ve already taken sail and are currently completing the first of the many legs of our separate journeys. As the distance grows, the fog obscures our abilities to see each other. It’s all right. We are the legs of separate compasses - exerting no influence over each other. Where ever the waters take you (or is it where ever you steer?) … I know you’ll be successful, happy, and all of the above. </p>

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</p>

8

<p>Oh, Qube. If I met you in real life, no lie, I would talk to you.</p>

9

<p>No lie, I wouldn’t. </p>

<p>You just come on a little strong.</p>

10

<p>@Niquii77 … The feeling is mutual.</p>

<p>@retrohippo … a little strong in writing or what?</p>

11

<p>I’m sorry, that was cheap and mean and I take it back. But yeah. You’re overwhelming.</p>

12

<p>Oh, I’m flattered.</p>

13

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</p>

<p>I know in the past, with others, I was definitely underwhelming. </p>

<p>I likely overcompensated and overwhelmed her. I think I took carpe diem and its equivalent, modern acronym too much to heart. Oh well. </p>

<p>At least I can say I survived it with few regrets about what I didn’t do. There aren’t many things I still want to do; I don’t have many regrets, except for perhaps saying what was truly on my mind about her, instead of alluding to it in writing. But then, as you said, that would perhaps have made it even more overwhelming :p.</p>

14

<p>What authors do you read, IceQube (besides Conrad)?</p>

15

<p>^ Isn’t it easier to simply say things? We never do-- not when it matters. It’s all hints and alluded words. Sideways glances that take so much courage to give and are thought nothing of.
We rarely know who likes us but are hyper aware of who we like. Perhaps if you go over to the him and just said “Hey you’re really cute” he’d smile back and say “You too”
Or maybe he’d smile and say “oh thanks”. I don’t think that the he (or she) would slip their hair and look at you like you were beneath them. Unless you picked a twat to fancy. I tell girls all the time they look nice and in return am told positive things about my appearance but when I guy tells me he thinks I’m cute I blush and stutter.
I don’t think he’s madly in love with me but rather that he saw me which is flattering. I don’t even have to think the he in question is cute to be flattered.
–what I mean is that simple words can mean a lot. Simple words may mean the most actually.
Very childish and sweet.
“You look pretty today”
“Me? Err thank you”</p>

16

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<p>You picked up a Conrad reference in my writing o.0? :D? Where :D?</p>

17

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<p>That’s some quotable material right there :).</p>

18

<p>Haha I couldn’t spot anything in this one specifically, but I know you’ve mentioned him in the past.</p>

19

<p>D’awww.
By the by. Lending a girl a book with your hand writing? Incredibly attractive right there mate. Like out of a chic flick awesome.
Not Twilight romantic but Paper Towns.
You really ought to read some John green. He’s a fantastic author.</p>

20

<p>So, I’m pretty blunt/honest and that doesn’t make me the most well-liked person(I have been called rude). Anyway, I do have to comment, your writing skills are supurb and you able to describe a situation without saying it point-blank like most writers today. The fact is, you have taken your personal life and put it out as much like a diary entry for others to comment and debate over, I can’t tell if you are either brave or seeking attention from others. Like someone else said earlier, if you had liked someone, you should have been more involved with them, from your description, it sounds like she barely recognized you. If a guy stared at me and did whatever you did and I didn’t know them very well, I would be thinking, “creeper.” I congradulate you for getting over your obsession, because it means that whatever attracted you to her has changed or you have realized tht it’s not worth it. In fact all of your posts about the, “The Mysterious Girl,” is almost like an epic of unrequited love/like. You’re in hs, you have plenty of time to date and find a new crush, but if the way you write is the way you talk, then either she’ll think it’s super romantic or laugh and say, “What?”</p>