The first crush I ever had was when I was eight years old. I could barely do long division yet but I definitely knew what it felt like to really like a boy. Big green eyes, prominent nose, black curly hair. He was four years older than me and so, in my eyes, he was waaaay cooler. I adored him. Of course, I was still stuck in a prepubescent body, with bushy eyebrows and chubby cheeks. But he was always so generous to me, when he really didn't have to be - letting me play his Nintendo Mario Bros., lending me his Hot Wheels, including me in Monopoly games with his friends, teaching me soccer (I never dared to reveal that I was a girly girl and had Barbies). I remember we used to use pennies to play our version of table soccer, where the pennies were players and we had goals set up in each side of a table. It was a brilliant way for me to learn the field positions, actually. He was smart, kind, the typical "good son" (as they say in Farsi). We even had the same piano teacher and orthodontist. I was so smitten I would PRAY that I'd run into him before a lesson or appointment. Alas, since he was four grade levels ahead of me, I never shared any school hallways with him, even though we went to the same elementary and middle schools. One time I was playing in his family's basement with his hot wheel cars and he came downstairs to grab a notebook and go back to his room. The basement could get awfully dusty. I sneezed, but accidentally farted at the same time. I was MORTIFIED. I was in denial, convincing myself that he didn't hear because he never said anything to me. He just ran back upstairs, with notebook in hand. To this day, it gives me the exact same feeling of utter embarrassment when I look back at that eight year old who let one slip in front of her first love. We began to lose touch, him being preoccupied with high school, me being preoccupied with the awkwardness of puberty. In retrospect, I realize that he definitely influenced the standards for the type of guy that has piqued my interest throughout the years. The nerdy, smart, talented, loyal, good-hearted guy that I look up to and admire. I don't remember the last time I saw him but even after all these years, I used to wonder where he was, how he changed, whether he got married. I just recently learned where he is now and what he's up to, but I can never bring myself to contacting him. I think I'd rather just leave the ideal, perfect image of him in my memory, just as he is.
