Memoir

Ten Years Crushing on the Same Guy

Now at twenty-one, I had it all going on. The legs, the hair, the boobs, and an air of self-belief!

When I walked into my sitting room that morning, I wasn’t surprised to find someone asleep on the sofa.

There had been a lot of noise the previous night when my Mum, and her boyfriend, had returned from his son — Bobby's — leaving party. It had been held at the pub restaurant in town.

Bobby was emigrating — that’s what they called it in those days — to Canada. Well, it seemed a guest from the celebration had crashed out on our sofa.

Staring at him sleeping, I felt something strange happen. A feeling I couldn’t quite comprehend. My stomach lurched with butterflies. His dark hair was messy and by the way his feet hung off the end of the sofa I could tell he was over six foot. Waking suddenly, he looked straight at me before rubbing his eyes.

“Hello. Who are you?” I asked with the natural confidence of the child that I was.

“I’m Lennie, Bobby’s best mate.”

“Would you like some tea and toast?” I gushed, having a sudden urge to act on those strange feelings and look after him in some way.

“That would be great, thank you. You must be… May — I’ve heard all about you?”

“Yes I am, OK. I won’t be a minute.”

I scurried off to the kitchen, my heart scampering around in my chest.

Lennie walked in and sat down at the table. We chatted. I blushed as I served him breakfast. He seemed to be interested in my school and hobbies, even making jokes I could understand.

I really believed I had never, ever, met anyone so handsome or amusing before.

He was twenty-one, I was eleven.

Thirteen

Two years later my mum married her boyfriend. They had a small wedding party after the service at our house. I was at that awkward age. All limbs and no real shape. Lennie walked in and I stared over from across the room, now too shy to go and chat like we had before.

But I certainly had not forgotten him. Sometimes his name came up in family conversation, and the racing of my pulse made it clear to my head — I still had a crush on him.

Before the celebrations had finished, when he was a little tipsy, he came over and asked how school was and told me he was getting married at our local church in a few months. My heart fell through my chest, but my smile didn’t waver.

Sixteen

My Saturday job was in one of the local shops. I worked there with a few of my friends. Whenever Lennie was seen coming down the road, to buy his weekly fruit and vegetable shopping, one of my co-workers would call me.

Immediately I’d stop what I was doing and be there at the till waiting to serve him when he arrived. I was growing up fast and considered attractive. However, I wasn’t overly forward or confident. He always seemed pleased to see me.

I think he was aware that I was smitten but behaved like a gentleman. Sometimes his wife was with him. She was an incredibly beautiful Asian woman. Together they made an extremely good-looking couple.

Eighteen

I went travelling for a while so there was not any likelihood I would bump into him.

Twenty One

Now at twenty-one, I had it all going on. The legs, the hair, the boobs, and an air of self-belief!

One evening I was out with a group of friends in a pub a few miles from where I lived. I was heading to the bar to buy a drink, turned around and there was Lennie.

My stomach lurched and my heart fluttered. Yet I knew they were behaving that way out of habit. After all, they had been practising each time I saw him for the previous ten years.

We stood and talked. He asked me about my new job and I could see him doing the maths in his head. He understood as well as I did, that now…

I was twenty-one and he was thirty-one.

He was still quite good-looking, but to me — just starting out — he seemed almost old. The slight pot-beer-belly didn’t help. Inquiring how his wife was, I felt a little disappointed for him when he told me they had divorced a few years previous, remaining amicable.

While chatting, I couldn't help thinking back to our first meeting, when I awoke to find the young Lennie — tall, dark and handsome — stretched out on the sofa.

I finished my drink and he bought me another.

Vic was my boyfriend at this point and he knew full well who Lennie was. As I started on the second drink, still chatting, I could see him out of the corner of my eye looking over, concerned. But something compelled me to continue.

I threw back my long blonde, wavy hair and laughed… Leaned forward and made a comment about his jacket. Touched his hand… I was actively flirting, knowing what I wanted to achieve.

This man had been the star in so many of my daydreams, not to mention early wank fodder, while growing up. I’d wanted him even when I didn’t know what that actually meant.

Now, he had to want me.

That was only fair.

I left him and returned to my friends. Vic questioned me, and I replied, “He’s very sweet, seems old and is a little overweight,” I reassured him.

We were all going on to a club and the cabs had arrived. I told Vic I would be out as soon as I had said goodbye to Lennie.

I went over and touched him on the shoulder. He turned his back on his friends and asked if he could buy me another drink.

“No, thank you, I just came over to say goodbye.”

He took hold of my hand, raised it to his mouth and brushed his lips against it.

“Bye, May, it was so great to see you again. I would love to take you out to dinner soon, Somewhere nice. Can I call you?”

Trying not to smile too much, I leaned forward and genuinely hugged him. The karmic wheel had struck again.

“Thanks for the invite, Lennie, but I don’t think my boyfriend would be very happy about it.”

“Ah… of course, you have a boyfriend.”

I turned to leave, and never ever saw him again.

Another true story by May More

And a first love memoir from Janet Meiselm