There has been a lot running through my mind lately. Getting bills mailed out, working on a major project, things like this. This has been a stressful time lately, but there has also been some moments where I had to reckon with myself for past sins and misdeeds. There were plenty who’ve asked me if “I was just an airhead” because of my carefree, spritely nature. There’s this one sin in particular that I feel the most guilty for.
In high school, I was the most aloof, socially awkward person you could’ve ever met and didn’t know how to properly communicate with others. A bit of an “airhead”, if you will. A little bit of this was due to me being a timid person. A bit of this was me not knowing what to say or not having the confidence to speak my truth. A little bit of this was straight up ignorance on my part. I was full of spontaneity and spunk, but I was also a goofy weakling. Anyways, I was sitting in my 9th grade English class when I spotted the most beautiful dame around! 5’4”, slender yet athletic, gorgeous red hair. She shall remain anonymous, but she was perfect. There was no way I was going to screw this up! After all, I thought I had found the one. I built up the courage to speak to her and we had become good friends. There was even a point where she wrote in my yearbook that I was “the biggest sweetheart”! It made me feel warm, tingly, and fuzzy inside and I was on cloud nine.
Now here comes the bad part of the story. This is the part where the foolish side of me emerged. I didn’t know how to convey my feelings to her. So what did the dumbass high school version of me do? I followed her around, even provoking unwanted advances towards her. It didn’t make matters better that she had a boyfriend at the time. The spats made their way to social media through messages and led us to not talk for a while. Eventually, it got to the point where love turned into anger and frustration, not just at her, but at myself! That warm feeling was gone! Why couldn’t I have that? Again, I was asked, “are you just an airhead?”
It took my senior year of high school for us to be on speaking terms again. It took a loooong while for us to even acknowledge each other.
We had a patched-up relationship to the point of where some people asked if we were dating in my senior year (I will not comment on that). However, I made the terrible mistake of opening my big mouth again by making a remark on her Facebook (see, that’s where you get in the most trouble. White knights will rush to the other person’s defense and you will have to deal with their wrath) about how she should stay single for a bit. Bad idea on my part. Yes, jumping from relationship to relationship is a sign of someone who’s insecure. But it wasn’t my business! Why was I worrying just to have a chance at getting some romance? I was an ass who didn’t know any better. Next thing you know, BOOM, I was blocked. What an airhead I was.
A lot has changed in the past eight years since my remarks. Originally, the beautiful redhead wanted to move to California, marry Adam Brody, and further her dance career (she is an excellent dancer) and was tired of Michigan life. I liked living in Michigan, but was hoping to move to Houston to become a professional wrestler and get hitched to Elizabeth Hurley. Now, she moved back to Michigan after a stint as an NFL cheerleader in Texas and loves Detroit and Michigan with a passion. As for me, I eventually got tired of the winters, the overpopulation, and the mundane suburban life in Michigan and made it my goal to flee to Nevada. I didn’t want to be married to someone I didn’t passionately care about with children I wish were sucked into a vacuum. I wouldn’t want to be in a state dominated by the older generations passing esurient lifestyles down to the younger generations, armed with their insensitive sarcasm and crass humor. Thankfully, I dodged a bullet because we probably would’ve had a big spat over moving back to Michigan if we did date and eventually marry. I would’ve wanted to move to somewhere like Las Vegas or Seattle, two western cities on the rise. She would’ve preferred Detroit and the ‘rebuild’. It would’ve led to the biggest mess possible.
So what did life teach me about all this? What did life show me in terms of handling the situation differently? Here’s what I took from this:
Oh, and don’t be an airhead.
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