My daughter today has started her Freshman year.
This morning I dropped her at the entrance of her new (huge) school and i was a nervous wreck. She was talking rapidly, giving yet another look at the mirror, checking her hair. She was as agitated as me.
It has been a real emotional sight following her svelte and beautiful figurine vanishing in that loud, undistinguished crowd, like swallowed and lost for ever.
Like Prosperina devoured by the abyss of Ade must have been watched by her teary, desperate mother, Giunone..
Ok, i am still feeling a little overhmeld...hear me here.
What i am going to tell you has sprouted by this occasion from the never resting sea of my memory.
I bet you know the movie "The way we were", right?
That one with Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand?
There
is
a reason why i felt a connection with that movie when i saw it. Yes, even though it is definitely, irrevocably just a Class B movie. One of the most lethally cheesy one, to be honest.
Yet, when i saw it i immediately thought of it as the
cinematographic version of one of my longest and cruelest crushes. A crush that took place during my high school.
In my life i have had my share of crushes....some silly, some
short, some humiliating, some bitter, some sweet and innocent.
But
the one that really "crushed " me to the knees has been the hopeless love i
secretly nurtured for almost two years for this boy named Roberto.
(yeah, see the connection? Even the same name of Redford, people)
Roberto and I ended up in the same class when he moved from a different school to attend my high school in the last two years.
To say he was handsome is really a shameful understatement.
He
was so good looking that even some teacher developed an insane
attraction toward his desk.
I
was sure that our English and Math teachers (and some substitutes too) were leaving our class with more than a flutter during those lessons.
Or
at least, that what i was thinking ...since that flutter was in my
stomach (and in my panties) in primis.....
He knew he was that
gorgeous. No doubt about it.
He would, therefore, walk through the days
like floating on a golden trimmed cloud, smiling to everybody,
talking with everybody.
Life is easier when you are a insanely good looking teen age.
Sad, but true.
He was engulfed and sustained by the secret powerful force of being IT.
The most popular guy of the whole school.
Even
the snack lady couldn't resist patting on his hand when he was grabbing some candy
from the basket. I bet she even let him take them without paying. That
bitch!
We girls, one by one, inevitably fell under his spell.
I guess I tried to resist longer. I had a reputation to defend, after all. So, honestly, i tried to deny that crush.
There was simply no way.
I still vividly remember where his desk was located in our class.
In
Italy we students never leave our classes between periods. Its the teacher that shuffles from class to class.
I prefer it in this way.
I think that all this buffalo hoarding kind of student transferring that you guys have in your schools is just amazingly stressful and distracting.
Instead, we would seat at our desk, always the same one all year long, for any academic day of our high school life.
And he was seating at the last desk in the fourth row, at the opposite side from the entrance of the class.
Windows side.
Pay attention because this detail has been a crucial one in the birth and deepening of my crush.
Because the sun would shine on his hair in those mornings, with a cruelty i can perfectly recall.
The sky would perfectly reflect in his bright baby blue eyes.
The ringlets of his medium long blond hair would almost being like from-the-inside illuminated when were slightly
bouncing at any little movement of his head.
He was in that way revealing his long and
tanned neck and that sinful intersection of his collar bones in those blessed
Spring days when it would finally start to be hot and he would start wearing
only a shirt. No more sweaters.
The first day he arrived in our class he was accompanied by the vice-principal. I was still seating in the last
desk of the second row.
When he sat at his desk i found out that only two student's heads were partially obstructing my eyes from his
vision.
It was easy for me staring at him without being noticed.
And oh if i took advantage of that blissful position.....
But, unfortunately, the following year my too raucous mini soccer games played underneath
the desk with my best friend Katia, using a tiny paper made ball, signed the end of the Paradise.
My
Italian
teacher like a frowning Arcangelo Gabriele ordered me out of Eden and
moved me to the first desk.
Same row, but on the side of her desk.
"Cosi' farai piu' attenzione, signorina"
(So you will pay more attention, young lady)
From that moment on if i wanted take a glance of his beauty i had to ostensibly turn my face to my right.
You will burn in hell forever, nosy Italian teacher!
Nevertheless, little wonders continued to happen....
His laugh was still a miracle in the boring silence of our Math lessons.
The
sound of his feet strutting past my desk was like a cherubic music for my ears during those
endless hours of infinite nothingness punctuated by torture devices called Ancient Greek to Latin translations.
His
hands
would elegantly and boringly lay on top of his desk when the soporific sound of our Italian Literature professor would recite some
Foscolo poem or an Alfieri passage or (worse) a Manzoni's book chapter.
As
you can imagine, my attention would only rise
to frantic level when he was called to approach the teacher's desk
and asked to read out loud some Leopardi's poem (so romantic) to the rest of the class (but in my imagination he was directing those passionate verses only to me).
Even more agitated and sensually exasperated i would feel when the English teacher would ask him to translate from a Dante Rossetti or a
Blake (that she be blessed for ever)..
We
girls would immediately stop whatever we were doing and listen.
Our heads would tilt to better capture his
voice, our heart would start all flattering over those burning words. Or at least, mine was...
He would read, but giving those wonderful phrases the least flattering interpretation, misspelling those magic syllables, denaturing all their beauty.
Any time he would inevitably failed to deliver.
See, my Adonis was not a bright student, i have to admit.
He
would spend most of his time reading some sport newspaper underneath his
desk, ogling girls in the hall, smoking furtively during recess in the
far side of the school outdoor area.
Nothing witty, intellectually charged, or deep was hiding behind his piercing blue eyes...that's the plain truth.
But...oh, those eyes, and those hands, and those legs....
He was for me like Tadzio, the forbidden love of the protagonist of "Death in Venice", by Thomas Mann (from which Luchino Visconti adapted a really beautiful movie) .
In my fervid imagination he was like the beautiful young boy for which Gustav Von Aschenbach quickly develops in the book a maddening obsession after meeting him in a feverish summer in Venice.
He
watches him constantly, and secretly
follows him around the city during the hot days. One evening, the boy
directs a charming
smile at him, looking, Aschenbach thinks, like Narcissus, smiling at
his own reflection.
Disconcerted, the protagonist rushes outside, and in the empty
garden whispers aloud "I love you!"
I
was Von Acxhenbach, yes, i was feeling like him...like sick, seating at my desk, hopelessly admiring
my Tadzio living his wonderful, oblivious existence, so oblivious of mine.
I wasn't even jealous of
all the girls he was always talking to....and there was a new girl each day...
So .....back to the movie.... .now you see why it struck such a cord?
He was my Tadzio and also, less intellectually talking, my Hubby...he was the Robert Redford kind of guy and i was the Barbra Streisand kind of girl...
I was the
clumsy duck, he was the elegant swan.
He
was this snobbishly rich, mild intelligent golden boy, caring only for
sports game and skirts......i
was like Barbra, the politically involved girl, the fighting for the cause
gal, a bookworm, an aspiring actress playing Godot and Ibsen with my
theater group, a aspiring poet, an aspiring
writer..
Our worlds couldn't be more different.
And yet.......oh, how i was longing to be part of his.
I was imagining that in his world everything would have been easy, light, fun, golden..
I
was sharply criticizing him and his friends for their mindless
disinterest in any school political meeting...(i never seen him there,
naturally).
And yet....it was him i was dreaming to kiss, not one of my fellow companeros...
After
all, this contradiction was just another example of my double life at
that time: good
student and good daughter up front, and rebellious, curious, decadent
and bohemian in reality, a girl who loved spending her time
reading Rimbaud and Tagore, Sartre and Nain, Kafka and the Kamasutra,
Marques and Pavese, Neruda and Gramsci.
I had very few selected friends and a
Catholic sense of guilt that i was rapidly mutating in boldness and
audacityand, most importantly, I had already developed an insane passion for subtitles.
He definitely couldn't be interested in me.
But i would
have died for having had the chance, just one time, to talk to him and maybe,
maybe tossing, gently, those golden strands of hair from his forehead and tell
him: "Your girlfriend is lovely, Hubble".
Naturally, it never happened and, like it was necessary, high school ended.
We all graduated.
Even my not so bright Adonis.
He
was living in a nearby city and after the final examinations he never went back in town. At least, i never had the chance to see him.
One day a friend of mine told me that his family was planning to move up North.
There was no doubt in my mind: i had to see him again.
I had to have a last glimpse of him.
So that morning I took my black bicycle and biked to his town.
I biked for miles.
I finally reached the beach front of his house.
And there he was...chatting on the sand, surrounded by his
friends....all lean, tanned girls, the kind of girls you hate when you don't have their bodies.
And
buddies who were equally tanned and muscular...the kind of guys you
want to be seen with ....just to make other girls envy of you...
I
looked at them and stood there...it was hot ....all that long pedaling
had tired me..i could have run and jumped in the water, just like they
were doing..
I didn't.
I gave him a last, long look and jumped on my bike to go back home.
I have never seen him again since that day.
Funny how, anytime i hear that song or watch that movie, its him i think about though.
Oh, just to let you know....my daughter survived.
She likes her classes, in Theater there is the cutest boy ever and French is going to be our new common language.
She is ready for her own memories.
gingersoul posted on Aug 24, 2009
| views: 415
Comments
-
UnicornForm said on Aug 24, 2009....
Man oh man those are alottta memories. I had a crush on a guy that looked like him but than i noticed his personality the older i got and well it dissapated severely lol. -
secretlife said on Aug 24, 2009....
such an exciting time! hold her tight whenever you can because these 4 years race by. lovely post. my first crush was the son of the man who ran the butcher shop around the corner from my house. i was 11 and he was 27. LOL my mom had sent me to get a roast beef for supper. he asked me all kinds of technical questions about the roast and sent me home with an eye round. he was the most beautiful man i'd ever seen up until that point. and whenever i went to this market, i would wait for him to wait on me (over the 2 older men)... the highlight of my crush was giving him a kiss on his cheek the weekend before he got married.....*sniff* *sniff* -
gingersoul said on Aug 24, 2009....
Unicorn....yes, exactly....at least i have never been delusional about him.....so in a way i was feeling entitled to that purely aesthetic crush....:-)
Sometimes there are people who become our objects of passion merely to give us the possibility to entertain ourselves with the idea of passion....
Isn't true that sometimes we believe to be in love only because me miss being in love?
-
quietone said on Aug 24, 2009....
ah, yes such memories of young passion and secret loves!! How well I remember also! Do you wonder where he is now and what he may have done with his life? I still think of my first crush, who btw was the brother of my best friend. I know he is California and is a cop in LA.. oh, boy! I think its called infatuation! I hope your daughter enjoys her high scool years and makes many wondrful memories of her own~ -
gingersoul said on Aug 24, 2009....
Secret.....oh, i listen , i listen...you know what you are talking about, my friend...;-)
It will happen in the blink of an eye when she and i will recall this first day 4 years to come.
It really seems yesterday when she was walking alone for the first time to her elementary school....and i was letting her go alone, reluctantly but proudly..her back pack bouncing on her shoulder, her two ponytails bouncing equally balanced...
She would turn her head every few steps and stop and wave her hand at me and continue to walk. She had a destination already.....
She made it all by herself that day, like today.
And i was there watching her, today like that day.
And you? The butcher's son, eh?....mmmm......soooo meaty...LOL....
A crush for such an older man....interesting...;-p
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gingersoul said on Aug 24, 2009....
Quiet......you know....i don't wonder at all where he might be...i think he had been part of such an imaginary and passionate world of mine with clearly no chance of ever becoming reality that i never even thought of him after all that dramatic crush finally got estinguished........
I did wonder about other men that have been the object of my interest at times...but Roberto had remained like fixed in the golden age of my youth.
Thank you for your wishes.....
My daughter is so exhausted for the stress and the excitement that she already wen to bed tonight....
"I feel like i have been run over by a truck" she told me....lol... -
woman said on Aug 24, 2009....
Thanks for sharing your memories Ginger. I suspect they remind all of us of our own. Your daughter is adorable, "I feel like I have been run over by a truck." No doubt she does. Hugs for the past, the present, and the future. woman -
gingersoul said on Aug 24, 2009....
Woman...oh, you are so sweet......thank you very much...
And yes, she is adorable...
You know...underneath that coolness and stylish hair i can still see the little girl with the ponytails, thank goodness...;-) -
Psych-ed said on Aug 24, 2009....
This was a nice post Ginger, thanks for sharing. It got me to thinking about my highschool crush and how ridiculously happy I was to sit across from him in English. How I went to great lengths to hide my excitement when me would accidentally brush up against me. So thank you for evoking my trip down memory lane! -
Alyss said on Aug 25, 2009....
I hope your daughter has a wonderful year at school and that the road she walks will be one with just enough to challenge but not be over whelming.
Perhaps she will have her first crush too... ;-)
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hotaka said on Aug 25, 2009....
so, back to the movie...
I have to catch a train. I will read more tomorrow!
-
uniquely-ironic said on Aug 25, 2009....
I had to smile a little at the memory of my first high school crush. Unrequited as it were. He was a beautiful boy. Unfortunately he died in an auto accident before I had even graduated high school. It makes me wonder if he would have been a handsome man or merely human had he lived.Have fun with your daughter's high school years!! -
Hegemone said on Aug 25, 2009....
Wow, you remember it so vividly Ginge! Although, I do have to say, as I read over your recollection of your crush, it brought back vivid memories of my own high school crush, feelings, thoughts, behaviors, etc. You know, honestly, I think I'd rather know that it's just a memory and leave it happy and good instead of fretting over the fact that we never went any further than friends. That's not all so bad when you think of it that way. I have this bright spot in my past instead of of a bright spot tarnished by poor decisions or something else. Thanks for reminding me. :-) Oh, and glad your daughter made it though her first day too. -
mixednuts said on Aug 25, 2009....
OMG! the memories this dragggged out of me! -
GrapeKoolaid said on Aug 25, 2009....
Mmm...Just lovely...Shall I tell you about my crushes in highschool? There were a few. :)One that particularly jumps to my mind was a certain cheerleader who would lean into me and say suggestively, "do you have any gum?"I think that was the only thing she ever said to me in my science class. Every day. And on most days, I would carry a pack of gum just so that I could give her one.Yes... Pretty people have it so much easier. (of course, you should know all about that) -
mOOn_platOOn said on Aug 25, 2009....
O
Wow ginger you reminded me that I was that same "Adonis" to someone named Connie when I was in high school and even beyond, she even had a crush on me after she was married and gave me (finally) one of the best BJs I've ever had. But that's as far as it went.
Now I'm not saying that I'm the lady-killer YOUR fellow was, but I had my followers...
My son started 8th grade yesterday. I'm trying to get some dirt out of him but he's tight-lipped so far. LoL....
Since you're a year ahead of me here I'll take my cues from you, my darling...
O
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hotaka said on Aug 25, 2009....
Well, if she can write about them (her own memories) as well as her mother she will be a success for sure.
I love these long reflective and descriptive posts of yours. Always worth reading the whole way through. After reading the first part last night I was thinking about a junior high school crush I had and wondered about what might have happened if... if only... ah, maybe my own crush post will surface here on SC.
I like how it all ended though, the beach scene. It was like you confirmed that you and he were different creatures and were not meant to mingle worlds.
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satyr said on Aug 26, 2009....
smiling.....so that's what it's like for girls, huh? Nice story, ginger. Glad daughter got along well. Je ne parle pas francais. -
gingersoul said on Aug 26, 2009....
Psych-ed........you are welcome...high school crushes are like the super-glue that bonds us all...lol...
Alyss....well.....its day #3 and so far so good.....:"-)
Curious you said "challenging"...because she told me just few minutes ago that she likes French mostly because is challenging....she gets easily bored .....
U-nee-k....sad fate to die so young....he had no other choice that remaining that beautiful in your memory......thank you, i am already having fun brushing up again my French with her....lol...
Heggie....oh, yes, good attitude.....i agree.....sometimes some things are better left the way they were....thank you for the wishes!
Mixed....so come on...let them all out.....;-)
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hotaka said on Aug 26, 2009....
I see you typing there, gingerbear, in your underwear? -
gingersoul said on Aug 26, 2009....
Grapey......well, thank you, mister Crush....;-p....
I don't even dare imagining the money you had spent in gum for that girl....setting traps at so young age already, don't you?......;-D
mOOnie....hey, somebody HAS to be the Adonis of the situation, right?
Glad to know you stepped out to cover such a difficult role....lol.....
And about your school dilemmas....just ask....
Hotbabe......oh, thank you for your nice words....:-)
I actually hope she will end up with a lot better memories than mine....i don't exactly recall high school as the best time of my life, you know?
Satyr.....yep, yep....that's what you boys turn us girls into......these mushy, over sensitive, dramatic human being.....lol....
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hotaka said on Aug 26, 2009....
Your post still has me thinking... High school was alright, at least the first half. I made most of my mistakes after graduation. It seems the more control I got over my life the more I screwed it up. Things are better now, though. -
gingersoul said on Aug 26, 2009....
Hottie.......tsk tsk.....what kind of question is this? ...behave, Mister Hotaka..
*running away from the screen..... just in case* ......;-D
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gingersoul said on Aug 26, 2009....
That's interesting.....i think you have been like me....i was kind of relying in the discipline and the schedule....
I was internally rebellious against them but never to the point of actually 'doing' something against them...
Never been in the principal office, never been suspended, never caused troubles to my schoolmates or teachers.......
After school...in college...that's when i started to feel all that freedom and all those choices upon me and i felt dizzy and confused for a while....
But started to live and experiment...:-) -
hotaka said on Aug 26, 2009....
Again we have some similarities, gingercakes. -
wombat said on Aug 27, 2009....
I missed this somehow until now. I could almost smell the chalk and see that sunlight on that Adonis head! Nice post. Sucks scissors that you got moved in the classroom, all for a paper ball game! Your bike ride to see him, only to turn around and go home, really got to me. I don't remember having any guy that good looking in our school, but yes, we moved from class to class between bells. I had one class with a guy I had a crush on. He was nice to me, but nothing ever happened, of course. Except I remember how he would admire my drawings for science class, but I sat with my long hair (at the time) falling over my face and not saying much!
Hope your daughter has a wonderful school year, and yes, may all her memories be good ones.
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gingersoul said on Aug 27, 2009....
Hottie.....yes, again...;-)
Wombie......yes, that paper ball game has really been the end of me!....lol....
I could have dazzled him with my soccer skills in dribbling and passing.....and he would have finally noticed me...*sigh*
Thank you...she seems really liking the school...;-)
*knocking on wood*
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GODwaterwalker said on Aug 29, 2009....
One thing leads to another -
raindove said on Sep 03, 2009....
this is one of the most touching post of yours...i can almost feel the innocence, the vulnerability and the wonder of a young heart out in the world to make it on her own. we all are familiar with the anxieties and the butterflies right but you know ginger nothing is quite like the first love or crush whatever we call it. i guess the innocence and trust with which we approach love the first time , bravely opening our hearts and offering ourselves to that special one is what makes it so memorable.
i wish your daughter the very best, whatever be her experiences..all i hope is they make her as beautiful as you.
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GrapeKoolaid said on Sep 09, 2009....
Oh and speaking of chewing gum and crushes...I still have the piece of gum that a certain crush of mine gave to me a year ago when I met her. It's still in my car, in it's wrapper in the center console. Preserved with it is a memory of a wonderful week spent together with my beloved. :)I won't chew it even if it's the last piece of gum on earth.Yup. It's that precious to me. ;)Just thought I'd drop you a little note while I was online today. -
gingersoul said on Sep 09, 2009....
God......THEY SAY SO!
Rain......sorry i didn't answer to you earlier.....you wrote such a sweet words...you are too nice...{hug}
Yes, i hope my daughter will collect as much as positive memories and experience she can....that's what we wish to our kids....just the best and more...
Grapey......really??? Ewww......but swe-ewww-t too...lol....
Well, you can not chew that gum for one and only reason...you wil get sick!
I mean, after one year...imagine the billions of germs collected on that thing by now....
I can send you a new pack of gum if you need some........;-p
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