An essay about a girl.

All those who know me well will CLEARLY know who the girl is. lol


Oh and in my opinion, this is the best writing I think I've ever done, in terms of Essays at least. Here it is.

"An essay about a girl"



Well, it wasn’t that I disliked her; it was just that I didn’t like her in that way. She had this tendency to, at times, annoy me into a headache. Nevertheless, I could not bring myself to dislike her. I couldn’t put my finger on it until that one day, yes, that is what I call it still today, “that” day. We were reading Julius Caesar (not the most exciting piece of literature), and we’re required to work in pairs. So she naturally polarized herself to my direction, and wound up at my table. I had no one else that I particularly wanted to work with, so I stayed. Her laugh was both annoying and yet soothing at the same time, something I found normal at the time, but in retrospect, I should have paid more attention to that detail. We talked about Julius Caesar about as much as politicians talk about politics. The actual topic of the conversation was quite inconsequential; it was our mannerisms that were having their own side conversation. Having conversations through mannerisms is great; you really should try it sometime.
She was like a good movie, every time the conversation came to a lull, something would spontaneously bring life back into it. But like I said, the content of our discussion was not central to our interactions. If you have ever seen a movie with a cliffhanger ending, you can begin to understand a fraction of the way I felt after each embrace with her. This was of course after having to sit through all of the annoying plot twist and C list actors. But in the end, the movie is usually worth it, as was this particular member of the opposite sex.
If no other science known to man can prove that opposites attract, she most certainly proved it to me. We didn’t have the same taste in music, food, or movies. We were almost, polar opposites. A side note for all males who wish to find a woman all of their own qualities, trust me you don’t. The best thing was that she could bounce things off to me, and vice versa, whether it be ideas about femininity or the male’s sexual insecurities. She liked Reggaeton, I couldn’t stand it and still cannot bear it, and I liked Jazz and Swing. She liked Toni Braxton and Beyonce, I liked Jill Scott and Lauryn Hill, she liked Omarion, and I liked John Legend. Thinking back, I don’t think we ever found a single musical artist that we both liked, excluding the given greats such as Stevie Wonder and the Temptations. If only man could extend the concept that opposites attract to race and religion, who knows what the world would be like. Without further digression and reminiscence, I will brief you in on how become to be a couple.
With much guilt, I must admit that Myspace.com played a role in this part of the story. We had both subconsciously realized that talking at school was not enough, and therefore began exchanging messages on Myspace. Then it came, the message, and yes, to this day I call it “that” message. She asked me, “ How do you feel about us”? This is the most elaborate, sadistic, and clever question that a woman can ask a man. It seems so harmless yet it is more loaded than a Pantene Provene hair product commercial. So I answered after carefully crafting my response. I responded, “ well….I like you, you’re a great person”. Yes, that was my answer, simple, and hollow, a safe way out. Her response was simply a kiss on the cheek the next day at school. In retrospect, neither of us officially asked the other one out, it just happened naturally, as things should.
After she told me all of the reasons that she liked me, I felt secure in that I would not lose any of those qualities, because she told me that she liked me for me. Even a amateur palm reader could have told you that this relationship was destined for greatness, and that palm reader would have been wrong. She threw a curve ball that even Babe Ruth could not have hit. One day just after kissing me, she dropped a letter into my left breast pocket of my button up, and then walked away. The look on her face as she walked away hit me worse than a child’s first trip to the dentist for a filling. In the letter she explained that I was a great guy, but I was more of the brother type, and that she felt we should stop seeing each other romantically.
To this very day, I do not understand women and their reasoning when they make fallacious statements as such. A brother is someone who you can tell anything, someone who will respect you for who you are, even if they do not agree with your ideas. Yet many women break up with guys who are too much like brothers and then find guys who are more the absentee father type. This is why I don’t feel sorry for girls being mistreated by their boyfriends, simply because they often chose these type of people to be with, not vice versa. Men generally do not simply attach themselves to a female; it is usually the female who has the job of discerning whether or not that male candidate is worthy of her. There is an old Roman saying that goes,“ He (or she in this case) who would be deceiveth, let him (her)”.

The totality of the blame cannot be placed on the individual herself. Society and the media share an almost equal amount of guilt. That is where it gets difficult for guys like myself. I cannot totally blame her, however I cannot be mad at an entire society that simply is not healthy. Only men who constantly party and womanize are held in high regards in the media. My favorite recording artist Lauryn Hill says in her song “That Thing”, “ This second verse is dedicated to the man, more concerned with his rims, and his boots, and his Tims than his women”. It would seem that most women would want a down to Earth guy who has his goals and priorities straight, and is headed somewhere. However the media has warped our young women’s minds so that they now desire sex crazed boys in men’s bodies’ rather then real men. Then, the same boys who get their heart broken soon become players and womanizers. They no longer want to attach themselves emotionally for fear of getting hurt, so they simply use females for physical pleasure and try to cut all emotion. So in reality, there is a cycle going on where a girl breaks a guys heart, the guy turns into a player and then messes with girls emotions, then the girl does the same as the guy, and goes around seeking physical pleasures and nothing more. This is a never-ending cycle.

This whole experience has made me believe in soul mates. I do not think that she and I were soul mates, I could be wrong, but we will leave that up to time. We were however, so compatible that it has lead me to firmly believe in soul mates. The single day that clinched this hypothesis came in August. I had not seen her in almost a week and a half. I could barely wait to get off the bus. I had butterflies the second I stepped on the pavement off the bus. There she was, in the distance, talking to a friend. She hadn’t seen me yet, and it was only a matter of seconds before we embraced each other.

“Baby!!!! I missed you so much”, she yelled as she almost charged at me.
I was simply speechless as she ran towards me. She looked like a small child on their first trip to Disneyland. The only better feeling than that was my mother’s affection. I felt almost surprised at how happy she was to see me. What she did next removed all doubt that soul mates existed. She jumped into my arms and just hugged me. I wanted to cry because of the amount of energy that I felt in me. I just held her for a while and hoped that I could gather myself to get a word in edge-wise. Eventually I gathered my wits and told her how glad I was to see her and how glad I was to see her so happy. We talked for around an hour, and then I had to leave, this would be the last time I would be with her as her boyfriend. The last time I would look at her without a bit of malice. The last time I would see her out of my own free will, or so I thought. It was shortly after this visit that she decided we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I forget the EXACT reason for our separation, I could check my Myspace.com inbox, however I would rather get a full nights sleep. It had to do with us not being able to see each other enough, that and 3 or 4 other levels of complication. That day benefited me because now I know how to tell if a woman is my soul mate by comparing them to her, and her exuberance that day.

As I said, I thought that I would never encounter her again of my own free will. Well I was quite wrong again. I came back like an escaped puppy on a rainy day. A few weeks into the school year I tried to talk to her after school. We had a conversation, which only made me feel more pitifully about myself. She said that she wasn’t sure what she wanted at the moment, and that she was stressed out. This angered me because I at times questioned our relationship and was also stressed out, however I never ended our relationship on the spot due to it. I told her to think things over and get back to me. She agreed, and I was at least content knowing that I would be able to clear up her mysticism. Well, what do you know? I was wrong again. A month later, no answer. I don’t mean to be a Nazi Commando, but if you make a promise, either keep it, or tell the person that you cant keep your promise. She did neither, she just left me waiting. And me at the time, not realizing there is no pride in love, I was too proud to go back and ask her about it. So I waited, the agony only mounting. I should have made my intentions more clear, but many things should have been done to remedy this. I became bitter that she was taking my feelings for a joke. So I began to ignore her, and give her sour looks. We did not communicate for about 2 months. And 2 months later fate kicked in, and I was scheming my new plan to talk to her. I had this one planned perfectly. I would go to her band competition and casually talk to her on the bus. But that devil fate had other plans. She didn’t even ride the bus to the competition, thus crippling my plans. And at the competition, I got minimal communication. At least I actually had fun there; otherwise I would have been pissed. It was on the way back that I thought I had knocked fate to its knees. She sat next to me on the way back. I asked her to come to my performance at the Winter Concert, she said “No, because you never came to any of my competitions”. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that I was at one of them as we were speaking. She claimed that I went to see the band, and not her. This is what infuriated me. I was in utter confusion as to how she thought that I would wake up at 4 in the morning to see a band play. I thought it would be obvious that I was there primarily for her. But as in the tradition of this story, I was again wrong. She was insinuating that I hadn’t been a good boyfriend, which tipped me over the edge. I stopped talking to her, and the rest is as they say, history.

Dealing with women is actually a quite simple endeavor. All you have to do is make sure you know them thoroughly before you get in too deep. A good friend and relationship guru told me to not get too far ahead of myself, and to live in the present with her. I should have taken heed to her warning. But that’s what life is, one big learning experience. The problem with dating in High School is that people’s characters grow. So we are trying to hold together a relationship when we are each individually growing, and sometimes we outgrow one another, as happened in my case. I am glad that I at least got to get a glimpse of love, and what it meant. I have become more responsible because of our relationship; on the contrary I have also become more critical of females and relationships. However the good outweighs the bad as far as results. I can’t help fantasizing about us magically getting back together one day. I hope this is mutual behind her and I, however I doubt it. By our last conversation, I doubt that she wants that to happen at all. And that somewhat bothers me. It would bother me a lot more if I had no future. I am however; most likely attending a Historically Black College in the fall of 2008, and am confident that I will meet girls like her and even better ones. That is really all I have to say on that fiasco. I will end it with this, “ It is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all”.