Boys will be boys.
I met A for dinner today. He had called me up yesterday because I had forgotten all about his birthday and he was so upset by it, he dreamt about me. The thing is, even though we met 14 years ago, and were pretty close once (upon a time), we haven’t been in contact for over a year. We have lots of mutual friends, but that’s about all we have in common. You see, I pride myself in being a great listener, but it hurts each time when my friends meet to ‘catch up’, and in the end, I hardly get to say more than two sentences about what’s happening in my life. What I get for being social, is a headache-ful of their life stories since I last saw them.
Admittedly, I had a major secondary-school crush on A. It lasted all of ten months. We talked on the phone everyday, as if we were dating, but he had his eyes on my then-bestfriend. And boy, was he hot. Every single girl in my cohort knew who he was. And I was in a girls’ school. He was, of course, in that boys’ school directly opposite. We hung out at a nearby Burger King everyday after school, together with N (my best friend) and B (his best friend). In retrospect, he was probably the reason why I put on weight so rapidly in secondary school. He should pay for my stretch-marks treatment.
Anyway, I’ve been avoiding this inevitable dinner for the longest time, and seeing that I have my hands free now, there is no better time to catch up with the people that I have been consciously snubbing. I may be anti-social, but I’m no hermit. I’m happy to have friends, especially those who were around to destroy my best formative years.
While he was going on and on about things as varied as how older women are attracted to him and his glorious winnings at Mahjong, I found myself wondering why he has changed so much. No, to be honest, I was wondering what I ever saw in him 14 years ago. I know I’m being mean, but I seriously was blinded by his looks, of which are currently unbelievably non-existent, and couldn’t see that he was nothing but air. He’s let himself go, and there he was, complaining about a lack of women. I am fully aware that each time he calls me, it is a very unsubtle way of finding out if I’m available. And I wasn’t surprised at all at his huge change of behaviour when he found out in the middle of our dinner that I no longer am.
Droning on about mindless things, I grew bored 15 minutes into our meeting and was saddened by the awkwardness that has walled up between us. We were such great friends. It was obvious that while I had grown up, he was still the same boy I knew 14 years ago. How did I figure that out? Taking a huge jibe at his weight-gain, I asked him if I looked any different than I did a decade ago. Being the drama queen that he is, he scrunched up his face and looked at me critically up and down, and said, “Well, you used to have nicer legs. B and I used nudge each other and shake our heads appreciatively everytime you walked past us in that pinafore. Now it’s, you know…”
“Aww gee thanks, dude.” And a sharp slap on his fleshy arm.