It’s All About Location

There is a secret of mine that has only been told once on the Internet, basically because I’m not into spreading it around like Donald Trump’s money. Here, I can speak my thoughts without feeling too concerned about what people will think of me. It’s kind of embarrassing, which is why it is best that I word it in a discrete way. Here I go again, pulling the dusty book off the shelf of numerous memories.

One day mom was putting fresh laundry away in my dresser when she yelled out my three names. I was out in the living room, in my boy scout uniform and getting ready to go to a meeting that night at the elementary school. I immediately looked to my room down the hall and mom putting clothes in my dresser. She had found my private stash. The one I begged no one to find. The dirty magazine collection along with other stuff I had collected over the last few months. I immediately ran out of the house and up the slide in the backyard, burying my head in my arms just like you see in the image above.

My curiosity about these things had been peaking at an all time high and I didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with it. I discovered my very first Playboy magazine in the cabinet of a computer desk at my uncle’s house. I remember him saying “Don’t look in there” in a kind of joking/serious tone, but of course that only added fuel to my fire. I secretly took the magazine, folded it up in a tube, stuffed it down my front pocket, concealed it under my shirt, and went into the bathroom. There, I started tearing out the pictures I liked the best, stuffing them in my pocket and discarding the magazine behind the toilet. When I went out, everyone was curious as to why I was in there so long. To this day, I still don’t think they ever put two and two together but I suspected it.

And so I brought those cut out pictures home and created a “private” collection of pleasurable things. But it didn’t stop there. I even hand drew a picture of a naked lady on a barstool from one of the magazine pictures, the one that was a real embarrassment for me when mom and dad found it and showed it to me later on. And since I had a minor crush on a girl my age who lived in the house in back of us, I wrote a very inappropriate poem about her, that got thrown away immediately by my mother. I am hoping against hope that the girl never was told about it. Because maybe that would explain why she ran away from me at my graduation ceremony, the first time I saw her in years.

The most embarrassing of this moment is when mom and dad sat me down one night and had “the talk”. Oh god. How I still remember dad and his drilling stare, mom looking very uncomfortable indeed. “He’s only 9 years old,” she said, wanting dad to back off and not be so harsh, back off on the hard pressing questions of what led me to this. When he showed me the picture of the lady I drew, I could hardly look at it, totally ashamed of myself.

The next day, my parents did a little more investigating. It all seemed to centered around that picture I drew, which was very well done I have to say. They asked me why I drew it. And so I made up an elaborate lie of saying a kid at the school, a big kid named Lance I thought was in the fifth grade and typecast as my ideal bully, forced me to draw it on the playground table or he would beat me up. Oh, wow. How stupid could I have been?

So my parents went over to the school and talked with the teachers, trying to hunt down this imaginary bully of mine. I was in the third grade at the time and this was way over my head and a number of the adults as well. I was kind of hoping they didn’t pick anyone out in particular, because that would only be more embarrassing for me and kind of weird to the suspected. No, they never did find anyone, and figured out I was lying through my teeth and asked why I lied. I couldn’t ever say, but it was my fear of telling them about my raging curiosity of the female anatomy.

The rest of the story involved mom and dad never wanting to speak of this incident ever again, eventually trashing the evidence just in time for my grandma to come over and have dinner.

The story still hasn’t been brought up again to this day, probably because it’s been forgotten, for the best. I’ll likely tell it to my own nine year old son when the same thing happens to him, unless he’s a little smarter than me of course and plans his secret a little better.

I think if I could go back in time and change something about this, I would choose a better hiding spot for the stash than in the dresser drawer. Maybe under my mattress or someplace less obvious. At least my third grade teacher didn’t see it.

Rewrite of Don’t Look In The Dresser!


Evasive Action

What’s the most significant secret you’ve ever kept? Did the truth ever come out?

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Silly Childhood Crush

Maybe it was a bit creepy, me having strange thoughts about her at such a raw age. I had a slight attraction to the neighbor girl who lived in back of our house. And I remember mom and dad teasing me about her and I “hooking up” sometime but of course they were joking since I was only seven years old and had no interest in that, right?

But I did develop a liking for her, Ashley her name, that was rather confusing to me. It’s hard to explain the feeling. This desire was so private and I never told anyone, not even my secret crush. She did not know that I liked her, didn’t even sense it, was more interested in playing with Barbies. And it’s kind of silly to even think about having a serious crush since we were only seven years old. Telling her my deep dark secret would have been too embarrassing and awkward, not to mention way out of left field since there was absolutely no connection between us at all. I didn’t really understand the idea of attraction and neither did she. My life had been playing with Legos and not even considering any situations with girls. The ones in my classes really liked me but I didn’t know how to reciprocate and it was difficult to say the least.

And then she moved away a few years later and my family a few years after that. Seven years went by before I saw my “crush” again. It was at my high school graduation. I had just walked down the stairs and first saw my family waiting for me. This was just after I got no applause after walking on stage to receive my diploma, a really big let down after waiting 14 years for the moment, thank you very much.

So I first saw my long lost crush’s mom and then, sensing something was up, turned and saw the person that I had never spoken to until:

“Ashley!” I said in surprise at seeing her for the first time in nearly ten years. And then a moment’s stare commenced. Really awkward stare. Our eyes locked. She was scanning my face, her eyes moving about. I did not know what else to say, didn’t have the words for this long break. We never ever talked to each other during childhood, but I had a secret attraction to her, a kind of forbidden one actually that culminated in a really bad poem that my mom saw and immediately threw away.

And finally she broke the ice and said, “I think I’ll go someplace else”, and left without another word. I was left standing there looking dumbfounded and confused. Turned back to my parents who were waiting there and they just shrugged and said we should get going to dinner. I never saw her again. Last time I heard, she had graduated from college somewhere. I don’t even like hearing her name being dropped now, since it just brings up feelings of heart-break and a confusion as to what happened that on that 6th of June, 2010.

After that happened, I think I’ve just about had it with these silly crushes. They cause me too much pain, the uncertainty and desperation. I’d rather just talk to a girl without having to feel so giddy and nervous.

If I saw Ashley again tomorrow (that’s not her actual name!), I don’t know what I’d say. Would it be really awkward or would we finally have a real conversation? I think I’ve only said one word to this blonde haired, blue eyed girl of perfect porcelain skin in my entire life. And she’s not exactly the nicest person in the world. No, we would act like adults and not like children who get fluttery and blush over a passing look. Maybe it would actually be the start of a real friendship…or even more.

Well, that’s my thoughts on childhood romance.


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “First Crush.”

Who was your first childhood crush? What would you say to that person if you saw him/her again?