I looked over my mother’s shoulder to see the handsome hunk standing in the dark shadows of my front porch.
I had skipped studying for my calculus exam that day so that I could go with a friend to check out a college (actually to visit my boyfriend at his college but my parents didn’t need to know that). As I had sat down with my textbook after arriving back home I realized I was in way over my head. It was not going to be pretty.
There were hushed whispers as my mother conferred with my father to see if they could allow a strange boy to study calculus with their daughter in the middle of the night.
I was a senior in high school. My curfew was 8PM. My bedtime was 9PM.
It was 8:30 when the doorbell rang.
I was not holding out much hope.
Thankfully, they relented and let him stay until 10.
Truth be told, I would have dumped my boyfriend for this guy. I had THE biggest crush on him. I thought this put me one step closer to a prom date.
I did pass the calculus test the next day.
He didn’t ask me to prom.
Neither did my boyfriend, for that matter.
I went by myself.
Fast forward fifteen years. I am now married to that boyfriend, practicing medicine in a small town when I get an email that a certain ear, nose, and throat specialist is coming for a visit. He practices two towns over.
Tons of angst about what to wear, how I look. Why do I even care?
Because I want him to care. Not because I want him to love me now or even because I still have a crush on him. I want to validate that quiet, lonely high school girl who went to prom by herself.
I invite him and his wife over for dinner a few weeks later. I realize quickly that I don’t really like this man.
What a relief!
Fast forward another five years and he is moving his practice to this small town. My town.