To all the men I’ve loved before – Part 2

It’s been a while since I wrote part 1 but life has been crazy.  I’m off work today, sick with a bad cold mixed with chronic sinus problems and coughing up things that should not come from human beings, so I took the opportunity to reread one of my favourite feel-good books, Where Rainbows End, by Cecilia Ahern.  It’s not written in the traditional novel narrative format, but instead takes the form of written correspondence (notes, emails, letters, text messages etc) between two best friends, a boy and a girl, and their friends and family.  It follows them from seven years old until they are fifty, divorced and with children of their own.  It’s a lovely story but today and every time I’ve read it in the past, it has reminded me of my own male best friend in parts.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not secretly in undying love with him (as you’ll come to read) but we have always had a strange, almost-psychic, connection like the best friends in book, and we too have had our own near misses with romance.

We first met when we were 11 years old.  I was the year above him in high school but, as I’ve mentioned before in part 1 of this blog, I was pretty awkward through most of my first years at high school and so any friend, regardless of age, was more than welcome.  Near the start of my second year (his first year) we each decided to join the school junior drama club.  We hadn’t met at this point.  The drama club took place after school once a week and, although the main purpose was to practice and put on plays, the first few classes of the year were all about building self-confidence and encouraging our acting ability.  Being so shy, I was far from a natural.  However one day we had to get into groups, make up an advertisement for something and then be filmed performing it.

What we were advertising I have no idea but two things about that day have stuck with me; firstly, my part involved spinning round in circles from the back of the scene, round in a circle right up in front of the camera and then off to the side, yelling “weeeeeeeeeee!” (what the HELL were we advertising, LSD?!), and secondly that one of the younger boys in the group was really nice and made me laugh, even though I was massively embarrassed about everyone in the group watching our ad back with the chubby, awkward girl spinning wildly yelling “weeeeeeeeeeee!”.  The next day I noticed he actually got on the school bus at my bus stop in the mornings.  I can’t remember which of us started speaking to the other first but at some point we started meeting at the bus stop every morning and chattering and laughing away.

Somehow, even though we were in different years, we saw a lot of each other.  We were in the school choir together that year as well as drama class and seeing each other at the bus stop.  I still have a photograph of the junior choir from that year – we both look so innocent, these two little pale baby faces with dark hair, looking oh-so-proud to be in a big important photo of a group we both loved being in.  If only they knew that most of our conversations included him calling me a ho.  Innocent indeed!   You know, I’ve been trying to think of a name for him but my nicknames for him over the years have been deeply uncomplimentary (that’s how we roll!) and it’s hard to sum him up into one name.  I think I shall call him Drama Dude, both because of how we met and because of the melodramatics that seem to follow him to this very day.  Grand so.  On with the show!

My memories of the first couple of years at school are quite fuzzy, but one incident I could never forget (for reasons that will become apparent) relates specifically to my darling best friend, Drama Dude.  In school, as is still the case today, I made friends with males more easily than with girls.  I thought (and actually still do to be honest!) that girls are bitchy and two-faced and complicated, whereas boys are funny, straight-talking and downright honest, whether you want them to be or not!  I’m a lazy girl at heart and couldn’t be bothered spending time analysing what every remark anyone said really truly meant when I could just be having a laugh.  If my male friends were annoyed with me they told me straight away and directly what I’d done to annoy them – I could then apologise, fix it and everything could go back to normal.  Brilliant.

The only problem with having so many male friends and not thinking or acting like a typical girl was that I was a bit of a tomboy.  This was fine with me most of the time – I preferred to have a dirty chuckle about the latest sex term we had discovered with the boys rather than discussing glittery nail polish and who fancies who in the class (OMG!) with the girls.  The only problem was that the more the boys got to know me, the more they confided in me and the more affectionate they were with me, and that while to them, I was just their chubby, friendly mate, I systematically developed a crush on each and every one of them throughout high school.

I first developed a crush on Drama Dude around Christmas of our first year together in school.  It wasn’t anything serious and, since I had decided no boys would ever be interested in me, I never planned to do anything about it.  I just spent my daydreams doodling our initials and little hearts on my books, like all the Sweet Valley High books told me I should be doing.  And then, magically, at the start of February, he invited me to go with him to the school Valentines Day disco!

Well!  I was flabbergasted but very excited.  I remember spending ages thinking what I should wear to look less fat and also kinda cool.  Like I said, I was a tomboy, so skirts were out, and I was chubby, so anything tight was out too.  I ended up wearing some dark jeans and some kind of ugly, peach, white and blue checked shirt underneath a black sweatshirt.  I remember thinking I looked awful compared to the other girls but I didn’t really mind.  At this point I wasn’t expecting anything to happen with Drama Dude, just that we would have a laugh.  I think I was just hoping he would ask me to dance at one point so I wouldn’t look like a complete loser.  You have to remember that we were both 11 – I was due to be 12 the next month, but still we were very young.

And do you know, he did ask me to dance.  We had a laugh and chatted as predicted but we danced to the Macarena with everyone else and to a few songs with a girl from my year and her boyfriend from Drama Dude’s class as a four.  Then at one point we danced, just the two of us, to One and One by Robert Miles.  It was the first time I had ever danced with a non family member and I remember thinking it was so romantic because of the song title (I know but I was 11!).  Shortly after, we were both supposed to be picked up by our parents, so we left the main hall and started walking down to the car park.  As we left the school building, he took my hand and smiled at me in this really shy way.  I remember thinking he was so sweet and really very cute.

We stood, hanging off the metal bars in the car park, like you do when you’re 12 (the world is a playground) and chatted and laughed.  Then he went quiet, came over and stood in front of me and said thank you for coming with him.  And, as the song goes, then he kissed me.  He put his arms around me to hug me, and then kissed me on the cheek, just near my mouth, I reciprocated and then he kissed me again in around the same place – 3 little pecks in total.  It was entirely innocent and cute – perfect first date behaviour for two 11 year olds!  Shortly after his mum drove in and we waved goodbye.  Then my mum came, picked me up and I went home smiling and floating on air, thinking it was the most romantic night of my life.

I rang him the next day because we’d made some half-assed plans about going swimming, but suddenly he couldn’t make it and from the tone of his voice I just knew that the night before had been a one-off – he wasn’t going to be my boyfriend.  But that was ok – I could go back to being the friend with the unrequited crush again and have the memory of his soft lips on my cheek and his hair brushing my forehead.

That would have been that too, but what we didn’t know was that the fella from his class (you know, the one we’d been dancing with whose girlfriend was in my year) had been coming down the path just as we had our innocent little romantic encounter.  Somehow, whether it be from exaggeration on his part, Chinese whispers or just a bad view of what happened, by the time we went back to school on Monday it was all around our classes that we had snogged in the car park after the disco.  At first we denied – after all, a couple of innocent little pecks on the cheek and a hug is NOT a snog – but when people interrogate you and ask if you kissed, and you say yes, they make up their own stories anyway.

I was a bit wary of our friendship going south because of all these rumours – after all how would this shy, sweet little boy take to everyone teasing him about snogging the fat, nerdy girl from the year above?  But for the first time in our friendship (but not the last), he pleasantly surprised me with his strength of character.  He laughed away the rumours and told people to mind their own business and resumed his post as my friend.  I was relieved let me tell you, although I’ll admit, a bit disappointed at the time that he didn’t ask me out or try to kiss me again.

Shortly after, I realised quite how strong my feelings were getting for Musical Guy so my crush on Drama Dude faded away.  At the same time our friendship grew.  We had even more in common now, having joined the school orchestra playing the same instrument at around the same level (he was slightly more advanced than me) and we hung around together a lot during school.  As time went on, we became even closer and more flirty with each other (I would say teenage hormones but we never did outgrow it!).  He had other girlfriends outside school and crushes on girls in school, meanwhile I had been falling more and more head over heels for Musical Guy, but yet we continued to flirt and be affectionate with each other.

In around February of 1999 (we would have been 14), the flirting had reached frenzy point.  I had gotten used to just being Musical Guy’s right-hand-gal rather than anything more and figured I deserved a little interest from somebody.  Besides, Drama Dude had been going through that whole overnight growing up thing that boys do at around 13 or 14 where they suddenly go from being little boys to big, tall, lanky teenagers with more defined features and raging hormones, and to be honest I did quite fancy him.  He was taller than me now, which was always a plus to a 5’ 6” 14-year-old girl.

I can’t quite remember how it happened but I think it went that some female friends of mine figured out I fancied him and asked him if he wanted to go out with me.  I was fully expecting the answer to be no and prepared myself for the embarrassment and fallout of him knowing I liked him and not liking me back.  I nearly fell over with joy when the answer came back that, yes, he would.  And so, we started “going out”.

The problem was that we had been friends for so long that, apart from the flirting, we didn’t quite know what to do with ourselves.  I was still very self-conscious and not entirely convinced he actually fancied me back so I was reluctant to make the first move.  However I did spend my days wondering if he was ever going to kiss me, or at least hold my hand.  I know we were only 14 but bear in mind that the school corridors were full of couples from our years draped all over each other, swapping saliva with the best of them.  Unfortunately it was one of those situations where, the longer it went on, the harder it was going to be for either of to make the first move.

Eventually it was a third party, a mutual friend, who called us on it when we were on our way to see a musical on a school trip.  She practically ordered us to hold hands.  I don’t know which of us was more afraid, and whether we were more afraid of taking this first step towards getting physical or of the barking Sergeant-Major behind us, egging us on.  Well, first of all we held hands like you do when you’re little and you’re holding hands to cross the road.  It wasn’t very romantic anyway but then our bossy friend said we were “doing it wrong” and that we should link our fingers instead because it was more romantic that way.  I’m not sure which of us wanted to punch her more but we obliged her.  That day we held hands on the bus, on the stairs in the theatre and during the musical.  I kept waiting for the spark to come but it felt more comfortable than anything else.  We smiled sheepishly at each other throughout the day but no matter how much I willed him to kiss me, it never happened.

In fact, during the whole 3 weeks or so we “went out”, we never did more than hold hands.  For one thing, we were never alone!  We had too many friends around us all the time and then, on the bus home, where we were usually at our flirtiest and most affectionate, we now had to put up with people yelling down the bus, “Have you snogged her yet?” and snickering.  I should mention that this included my little sister!  I was a romantic at heart though and I still really did fancy him, so I kept my hopes up every morning – maybe that would be the day he would suggest we take a walk when we got to school, he would take my hand, pull me into some dark corner and take my breath away with the softest, most passionate kiss.  But it never happened.

Then one day, at the bus stop, he said those magic words that started on the TV show Friends and must have been used as a get-out clause by millions worldwide ever since: “I think we should go on a break... you know, like in Friends, like Ross and Rachel, hahaha!”.  We were both fans of the show at the time and it seemed like a terribly adult way to back out of something that was going nowhere with both of our dignities intact, and so I readily agreed.  I remember it was nearly my birthday and I wasn’t too amused to have been dumped just beforehand but I soon realised that it made absolutely no difference to our relationship.  Actually it may well have improved without the strain of trying to make it physical when really all we were was flirtatious close friends.  Besides, I knew deep down that he couldn’t hold a candle to Musical Guy who I was still pining after, worse than ever.

Strange things began to happen when I started sixth year.  Musical Guy started treating me badly and Drama Dude gallantly filled his place, supporting me when my heart was broken.  And then when I was filled with anger and hate, he calmed me down and made me laugh.  There wasn’t much competition for the position of my best friend when Musical Guy vacated it, but regardless, Drama Dude had sneaked up on the inside lane so gradually that I can’t quite remember the first time I called him my best friend.  All I know is that by sixth year he definitely held the title and told me in no uncertain terms that I was his best friend too.  It was nice to hear.

We had a strange relationship though and I don’t think anyone quite understood it.  In some ways we were so flirtatious with each other that people frequently told us to get a room.  Yet in others, we were more like brother and sister.  To be honest I didn’t care about defining our relationship, all I knew was that when I was with him, I felt safe and, for lack of a better word, cherished.  He made me feel interesting and funny when I spent the rest of my life feeling awkward and fat.  He let me snuggle into his shoulder to doze or for a cuddle on the bus on the way home from school when I was exhausted from studying for my A-levels, only occasionally pretending to push my head down towards his crotch and sniggering in a dirty way.

Admittedly, I think at one point in our last year at school together I may have also put a letter in his pocket telling him I fancied him again but didn’t expect it to be reciprocated – I was sure I couldn’t be imagining the chemistry when we flirted and that it would be different if we went out again now we were older.  He told me he didn’t see me that way and I laughed it off and said I thought as much.  Again, just when I thought I’d done or said something that would push us apart, it brought us closer together.  Perhaps he was just used to my quirky ways or perhaps there’s truth in that old quote from the Sound of Music, "There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."  (or fancies him at least).  In retrospect I’m glad nothing happened because at the very end of high school I met Yawksha Boy and soon learned what true love really was.  I know I sound like the lyrics from a power ballad but I’m just being honest.

When it was time for me to leave school, I felt emotional about not seeing Drama Dude every day any more, but I thought it was just me overreacting until one day he asked what he was going to do without me and looked genuinely upset.

So what happened between us since we say our emotional goodbyes after my last day of school?

Well, the short version is that after a year apart (during which he became very angsty!) he came to the same university as I did, we were delighted to be together again, I introduced him to my new friends there who quickly adopted him as one of the gang, I left him to move to England with Yawksha Boy, he became closer to one of my new best friends, I returned a couple of years later, they welcomed me back into the fold, we quickly became a three and then a five when we adopted my sister and another old school friend into our little gang, he moved away for work for a year, came back for a year and then moved away again, which brings us to now!

We stay in touch via email while we’re apart but we’re both kind of rubbish at remembering.  The weird part is that when we meet up, after a couple of minutes, it’s just the same as it always was.  Oh, well, with 2 main differences: firstly, Yawksha Boy does not like him, which makes things very awkward; and secondly, a couple of years ago he came out as being bisexual and has been exclusively in relationships with other men since then!

For anyone interested in the romance aspect, we eventually did kiss on the lips, very briefly after drink was taken one night, years after I spent those days at school daydreaming about those dark corners.  It was a strange experience, mainly because I'd spent yearly idly wondering what it might be like to kiss him.  However when it finally happened it was purely as (very drunk) friends and neither of us wanted to go down that road – he’s just an almighty scoundrel when he’s had one too many red wines and he loves the drama, hence the nickname!

The conclusion of this merry tale is that Drama Dude is not so much a man I loved before, as one I still so dearly care for now.  He’s my very best friend in the world (partners excluded) and I only hope he knows how grateful I am for all the support he has shown me over the years, for the confidence and laughter he gave me and just for being my best friend.  One of the only major fights I have had with Yawksha Boy has been about my friendship with Drama Dude but I would never give him up, for the love of my life or anyone else.  He means too much to me; I hope we’re still finishing each other’s sentences and sharing the gossip about his dramas when we’re 60 years old.  I’m taking it from the amount of times he told me he loved me and that I’m his “bessfren” when he was drunk recently that he feels the same.  However until we start meeting up for the early bird special, we should probably keep in touch more.  So, my darling best friend, if you ever read this and you’re not horrified beyond words at my thoughts, past or present, drop me a line and let me know how you are.  Love you always x