The Miss of a Great Miss

I’ll never forget the day I first saw a dream walking. Her name was Susie Summers (name changed to protect the fantastic). Her smile, which sparkled beneath two twinkling eyes, was electric and made people who received it (especially guy people) feel very special.

While her physical beauty was astounding, it was her invisible beauty I shall always remember. She really cared about other people and was an extremely talented listener. Her sense of humour could brighten your entire day and her wise words were always exactly what you needed to hear. She was not only admired but also genuinely respected by members of both sexes. With everything in the world to be conceited about, she was extremely humble.

Needless to say, she was every guy’s dream. Especially mine. I got to walk her to class once a day, and once I even got to eat lunch with her all by myself. I felt on top of the world.

I would think, "If only I could have a girlfriend like Susie Summers, I’d never even look at another female." But I figured that someone this outstanding was probably dating someone far better than myself. Even though I was president of the student body, I just knew I didn’t stand a ghost of a chance. So at graduation, I said farewell to my first big crush.

A year later, I met her best friend in a shopping centre and we had lunch together. With a lump in my throat, I asked how Susie was.

"Well, she got over you," was the reply.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You were really cruel to her the way you led her on, always walking her to class and making her think you were interested. Do you remember the time you had lunch with her? Well, she stayed by the phone the entire weekend. She was sure you were going to call and ask her out."

I was so afraid of rejection; I never risked letting her know how I felt. Suppose I had asked her out and she’d said no? What’s the worst thing that could have happened? I wouldn’t have had a date with her. Well, guess what? I DIDN’T HAVE A DATE WITH HER ANYHOW! What makes it worse is that I probably could have.

By Jack Schlatter from Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul.