When I was in eighth grade at Campbell Junior High School in Queens, NY, I had a crush on Neil Maltz. He was about three inches shorter than I at the time, but he was cute, so I didn’t care about his height. When our class took an overnight trip to Washington, DC, I remember getting off the bus behind Neil. He turned around and said: “Gerilynn (my real name), you are a nice girl.” I was joyous. I stared at one of the trip photos for months because I could see a little bit of his face in one of them. I don’t remember one other thing about Neil. He was my first crush.
I recently decided to look Neil up on FB, and there he was, or at least I thought so. It was hard to tell from the photo because it’s been 51 years since I saw him. I emailed to ask if he went to Campbell, but then immediately forgot about him. I checked my messages today and there was a response: Yes, he’s the Neil from yesteryear. I wrote back and told him about my crush on him.
Here’s a photo of Neil. I assume he’s with his wife and grandchildren. He didn’t write back yet, but I don’t care if he does. I’m over my crush.
Speaking of crushes, a man who I last saw when I was 27 (that’s 34 years ago) STILL calls me a couple of times a year to connect. He does it the old-fashioned way because he doesn’t own a computer. He called today to wish me a happy birthday. I once asked him why he still calls after so many years and he said: “I had more fun with you than with any one else in my life.” That was a great compliment, but I’m not THAT MUCH FUN, so his life must have been rather fun-less for the last three plus decades.
Relationships can be ridiculous.
0 Responses to “Meet my eighth grade crush”
Lizbeth Ccenta says:
Me encantaria poder opinar algo sobre lo acabo de leer, pero solo le puedo que ojala tenga un amor asi, que no muera tan pronto, que viva eternamente en mí.
Pero algo que si sé, por mi madre, es que el amor solo lo sientes una sola vez, el verdadero amor. Sé que se daria la vida por ese ser, se que al verlo sonrier, por mas tristeza que sientas, se te dibuja una enorme sonrisa en ti. Mi madre amó a mi padre, y lo necesitaba, más que el aire que respiraba; y apesar, que no termino bien este amor, me gustaría poder sentirlo por alguien y ser correspondida.