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The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor

April

The Architect

Clay

Love Accidentally

Brad Meyers was a very flirty, ornery boy that I grew up with in my small Kansas town. We easily became friends and I always enjoyed talking to him, but by the time we were in high school he had become a rocker-head and was held back a year in school. In a small town if you get held back a grade, well, it doesn’t do much for your social life, poor guy.

For some reason, during the early weeks of first grade, Brad became smitten with me. Our teacher had arranged our desks in a semi-circle around the room facing her desk. I sat just two desks away from Brad. This nearness allowed us to pass notes easily to each other without detection. I would write Brad a note saying, “Want to play swings at recess?” He would write one back that read, “You are cute.” I’d glare at him because being called cute was mean and a stupid thing to say, I hated it when any adult called me cute and it was worse coming from a nitwit, love-struck boy! I’d write him a note saying as much. Unrelenting, he would write, “I love you.” I’d retort with, “I DO NOT LOVE YOU!” Back would come, “I Love you forever.” I would beg him to stop writing me notes but he continued the onslaught. Finally, fed up and unable to put a halt to his forth right words of affection, I came up with a brilliant plan. The next note I received that professed Brad’s love to me, I would get up, march to the opposite side of the room and plop it down on a boy’s desk, then that boy would think that Brad loved him. Brad would be so embarrassed and the unsuspecting boy would be so mad that he would beat up Brad and Brad would leave me alone forever. It was flawless; I was a seven year old genius.

The note came not long after my plan was hatched and I executed it with superb eloquence. Not caring if I would be reprimanded for leaving my desk I hopped up and delivered the note straight to the desk of a boy I knew nothing about, Kelly. Marching back to my desk with confidence I gave Brad a look that said, “You are a silly boy trying to mess with me! I am waaaaaay smarter than you. Don’t you look dumb now? Yes, you do. But, I look cool and the entire class thinks you’re a doo-doo head and I’m clever, yes I am.” It’s possible that I stuck my tongue out too.

I sat down at my desk reveling in my own glory. Unfortunately, I didn’t pay attention to one small detail. The small detail that distinguished who was actually writing that note to Kelly, there was no signature. Kelly saw that note as a hand delivered, hand written confession of my deepest feelings for him. How do I know this? Minutes later Kelly passed the same note around the semi-circle back to me. Some of my classmates took the time to read the note and smiled in my direction as they continued to pass it along to me. I opened the familiar piece of paper and read Brad’s scrawling, “I love you” and underneath was Kelly’s note, “I love you too.”

I could feel my neck and ears getting itchy with the blood that was rushing to my head, I realized my mistake. I was panicked. What had I done? How would I correct this awful mistake? Then I looked across the room at Kelly. There he was staring at me with his big chocolate brown eyes, smooth peaches and cream skin with a small black mole at the corner of his upper lip and a smile. Well, maybe I did love him.

To be continued…..

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