I remember what it felt like to want something so badly, yet lie to myself that I really didn't need it.
That particular year, I was living with my aunt in another city. she had just enrolled me in a new school, and i was just trying to adjust when it all happened.
I never really understood what it meant to crush on someone neither have I crushed on anyone until i met this boy.
I'm not sure how it started, but i found myself completely lost, stirring at this particular boy at every chance i get. He was ebony black, with pink lips, average in height, a little skinny, and had a short curly hair.
My heart falls apart anytime i saw him especially during my first month in that school. I could feel my heart racing and my eyes would become glued to him like a kind of magic.
This went on for days until I began to realize I wasn鈥檛 the only one who felt that way. Almost every girl liked him, even our civic teacher, A young and beautiful lady from Cameroon.
I couldn't imagine myself competing for a boy, especially not with my classmates or a class teacher. The thought of standing in a corner, trading warnings with another girl to stay away from her man felt childish and gross to me.
I started disliking that particular teacher, not because she had feelings for him but because she made her admiration painfully obvious. She would scold him unnecessarily, find every excuse to touch him and ask endless questions, as if he were the only student in the room.
Looking back, I can't say for sure whether it was pure jealousy or frustration but i couldn't stand that. I knew i needed help,and since i was ashamed to tell someone, i decided to help myself.
I taught myself to pretend not to care about him. I trained my eyes to ignore him,sharpened my words into little jabs, searched for flaws in him and made sure i never sat beside him.i avoided him at all cost.
Even when he tried to be friendly, i would cut the conversation short and leave.
"He's not even that special,"
"What do you girl see in him"
"I don't like his dressing "
"He plays alot".
These are my words to anyone who trys to bring him up in a conversation.
The truth is,I wasn鈥檛 angry and i didn鈥檛 hate him but i was only masking my disappointment, the same way a child calls an unripe fruit sour because it's out of reach.
You know, that's what sour grapes really are.
I'm happy that after two more terms, i moved out of aunt鈥檚 house and never got to saw him again. Finally, i could live my life without pretending.
First image Source 馃憞
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