Prep yourselves for a full backstory and count on this as being as long as a chapter book everyone. I’m bout to tell you basically my life story –
Let’s say, just in case anyone I know is on here by chance, so they don’t trace this back to me, my alias is Alex, and my age is 16, and I would like to share my story with you all, though I digress.
My name is Alex, I’m 16 years old, and I’ve never been kissed – much like the film, but still looking for the happy ending on the baseball field. My name is Alex, and my entire life I’ve been a hopeless romantic, and the best matchmaker I know, if I do say so myself. My name is Alex, and I can’t use the matchmaking advice I give to my friends because unlike everything else I do in life, I can’t take a risk here. My name is Alex, and throughout my whole life, I’ve easily had over 50 normal crushes, maybe 5-8 big crushes, but throughout my highschool career, only 3. My taken bestfriend, the fanboyish drama-jock, and the boy on the bus. The most cliche of situations. My name is Alex, and I’ve never been in a relationship because I believe I’ve always had Philophobia. My name is Alex, and I don’t know why.
Let’s start at the beginning, because like all good, overspoken cliche stories, they tend to start there.
Ever since I was young, and surely like a lot of you, I was a hopeless romantic. I wasn’t fond of the rather unpleasant kissing scenes in films and books, because when you’re young, it is seemingly embedded into our brains that those scenes should make us embarrassed to watch or read, to gross us out.
As you get older you begin to lose interest in pulling faces or closing your eyes in embarrassment whenever those scenes come on. You start realising that it’s actually okay, and for most people, they start thinking about having one of those scenes of their own. When I was young, I read a fair bit, and I watched enough films to know that although the kissing scenes were icky, I would want someone of my own like that someday. I figured I was too young, and not ready, and so while all my other friends had started little relationships, and would get married under the tallest tree in the playground, I would be their flower girl, their matchmakers, and I would wait, because I thought it wouldn’t be that long, and at that point, it just wasn’t important.
Flash forward a few years, around the end of Primary school. Year 7 and 8. This is when I started developing some strong feelings and major crushes. Most of my friends at that point had been in “Serious” relationships and had done all the “forbidden” things like making out and touching each other(c00ties!!11!1!1!!), but still with clothes on of course, otherwise it would be downright “scandalous”. Though I had strong feelings towards particular boys, I wouldn’t dare make a move on them, and at the time, I had no idea why I was so afraid and unready. All of my friends were there already. When I was younger, I thought around then would be the right time, but apparently not. It was also not a case of no courage to ask people out. I had been asked out a few times, played a few rounds of the classic middle school “who likes who”. I knew some people liked me, even a couple that I liked back at the same time, but I wasn’t ready. I then wanted to wait for highschool, because I figured it would be pointless to begin a relationship which would end as quickly as it started. I was going to a highschool where I knew no one, but somehow, everyone knew each other. Despite going to different schools. I was literally the only one that knew no one. I would be leaving them behind anyway when I left.
At my primary school, there wasn’t a very large gene pool. There weren’t many boys in my year and I was very good friends with all of them, but suddenly, I find myself in a place with over 500 unknown not at all bad looking guys, and I didn’t know where to start. It was in those few couple weeks I was completely flustered over the boys. It calmed down a bit over time but it was in those first couple weeks the first revelations were made.
The first one being fanboyish drama-jock. Let’s call him Sam, as another alias. Now at that time, Sam was quite possibly the best looking guy my age I’d ever met. He was tall, tan, messy brown hair, great jaw structure, with a gorgeous smile and kind eyes. He was funny, did silly accents, was into the same sort of fandoms I was in, and he was really nice. Unfortunately, every other girl in my year thought the exact same thing. I pined after him the entire year. He was the perfect crush. He was in one of my classes, and I spent every opportunity with him I could. We were soon becoming friends. My heart would beat faster when I was around him and I would feel faint when he was up close. Naturally, me being the trusting idiot I am, told my friends I liked him, and they immediately told him. He didn’t mind, he was sweet about it, but I knew he wouldn’t like me back.
The second one being my taken best friend. And as another alias, let’s call him Evan. Now Evan, coincidentally, much like the boy on the bus, who we’ll get to soon, was also met on the bus.
I can’t remember much of our meeting, but from what I do recall, it was on the third day after school began. I took an instant liking to him. He has a british accent, which is my weakness, and cracked a couple of jokes. I had seen him around in the days previously, and he was the only one I knew to be in my year on the bus. I remember going up to him and introducing myself. We started awkwardly talking and soon became friends. He had piercing blue eyes, blond hair, with a slight quiff, brilliant smile, and at that point, was shorter than me, which I used to poke fun at, with him always having a witty response for.
I wasn’t awfully close with Evan, but I had recently made a new friend called Megan, whom I had grown close to. She told me she had known Evan previously through family friends, and had liked him for a while. What no one knew at that point was that I had taken an intense liking to him, but since she was my new friend, I felt it was important to not betray her. So I backed off, and almost used Sam as a rebound for my feelings. Months pass. Evan and I become extremely good friends, very close, and it seems that almost the day Megan claimed she didn’t like him anymore, which I had been waiting for, was the day Evan told me he liked a girl (who’s alias will be Becky) and wanted me to help get them in a relationship. I told myself that I had become so close to Evan, it didn’t matter anymore. His happiness was more important to me than my useless confessing. So, after a few months, I managed to get Evan and Becky together. Although Becky used to hang around the kind of crowd I would usually avoid, they seemed really happy together. Still, to this day, I still like him, and lately I’m a bit worried it’s on the verge of love, but I think love is a two way street, so maybe the feelings are just growing stronger.
And still, to this day, they’re together.
Now, throughout obsessing over Sam and secretly loving Evan, a new power had come into play. About halfway through the year, two boys moved up the road from me. Both from England, one without an accent, both attractive, one older than me, one younger than me, one uninteresting, and one confusing, and you can bet I instantly had a thing for the older than me, accent ridden, confusing, attractive brother. The boy on the bus.
About a week after I met them, I believe I started having a thing for “Tom”, who is obviously currently bearing an alias. Anyway, Tom wasn’t my usual type. He looked and acted a bit different than what I usually go for. Rather rugged, rude to my friends, rude and abrupt to me at first, not academically focused, sport based, but not in a bad boy kinda way. He could be really funny and kind one day then not talk or be very abrupt the next. This is half of the confusion.
The other half is that I trust my friend’s judgement completely, but naturally, knowing my luck, Tom was in one of his moods. There are other boys on the bus that I think he shows off to, because when they aren’t there, he’s completely different. Anyway, my friends came on the bus, he was a bit of a dick, and ever since, they’ve hated him. Over time, for some unknown reason, my feelings for him have grown stronger, and a sneaking suspicion has grown alongside that, of that he might like me back, and like every time this suspicion creeps back in, the Philophobia kicks in hard. All of a sudden I’m terrified. What I would do if he asked me out? How I would be in a relationship? Would it be too soon?
I figure I’m also attracted to all of them in different ways. I don’t know what way is best for me.
Recently I started seeing my school counsellor about it, and she is so lovely and supportive, but offers no solutions. And not only that, but I had figured out that out of all of my friends and acquaintances, there was one left that hadn’t been in a relationship, and being the competitive person I am, I still don’t want to be in a relationship unless she has. So I’m currently helping her find one. I’ve come this far. I figure, why stop now? I’ll be the last man standing.
So now I have excuses to not be in a relationship, which is both what I wanted, and what I’m against. I feel trapped. I want to be with someone so much, but there is always the question, what if I mess it up? But if I don’t would I only be with one person the rest of my life? Sure, that’s fine if I’m happy, but what about missed opportunities? Would my life be different if I dated around? But what if that’s what destroys me and I will die alone? What if being single gives me a uniqueness that I couldn’t replace? What if I can’t get out of the relationship? The thought of being in one makes me physically ill when I really think about it. So many questions. So many thoughts.
It’s the end of 2017. I’ve (almost) loved the boy on the bus and my taken best friend for a few years. I know it’s unhealthy to like both these people, and I’m constantly confused of my feelings. I convinced myself to stop liking “Sam” at the end of my first year. It was getting too unhealthy and I was slipping into something dangerous and bad for my mental health. He’s still a good friend but quite frankly I’m glad those feelings are gone. Thanks for listening to my story everyone. I share my story in hope of finding others like me, who hopefully have some solutions or answers, but if not, I hope you have more success than I have had so far. The best advice I ever got was to not think about it too much. It’s like jumping off a cliff. It’s gonna be scary as hell before you do it, and once you jump, you know there’s no way to stop yourself from falling. But once you land, it’s over. For better or worse, it’s over. And it’s done. And you can’t go back in time and stop that jump, but it was thrilling and scary and wonderful all at the same time and for better or for worse, it’s over now. It doesn’t matter. You just have to hope that when you land in the water, it’s a soft landing. But either way, you’ll still land somehow. As cliche as that sounds. Also, I’m completely impressed that you’ve read this far. Most people would not read this monster of an explanation –
My name is Alex, and I’ve never been kissed. My name is Alex, and I’m terrified of love.
My name is Alex, and before, I never felt more alone. But my name is Alex, and I love this site, because I have someone to talk to, people like me, people who understand.
My name is Alex, and although it’s really hard right now, I know I’m not alone.