What Do Teens Know of True Love?

Can we, as teenagers, ever even begin to comprehend the slightest bit of true love? Honestly, we shall never know of love until we reach the age of twenty-five. Teenaged love is a foolish, fickle, and utterly hopeless concept. I personally discovered this fact when I was sixteen years old. I thought that I had fallen in love with a girl that I had known since the first grade. I soon realized that she would never be anything but a friend to me, if even that…
It was March 2, 2006, and there were only a few weeks until the prom here at Apalachee High School. Everyone had already begun to ask their girls to accompany them, and I was getting very down in the dumps about it. I felt that there was no girl that I could ask that would possibly say yes. As I pondered over my dilemma while waiting in line to sign up for classes, a very beautiful young lady, whose name shall not be mentioned, accosted me, saying that I looked familiar. She asked me the usual questions: “What elementary school did you go to? What’s your name?” After I answered her brief questions, she revealed to me that she remembered me, that we knew each other while attending classes at Hapeville Elementary. I was quite amazed by this, as I had moved from Hapeville during my sixth grade year to Stockbridge, then to Auburn during my seventh grade year. When she told me her name, I remembered her immediately. She was one of the girls that I had secretly admired in my younger years. We talked for a few moments, reminiscing on major events that occurred in elementary school, before we went our separate ways to class.
It turned out that I was scheduled for ISS that day, so I was escorted out to the cafeteria for lunch. As I sat and ate my sweet-and-sour chicken, I could not help myself from allowing my mind to wander, thinking of the girl from my past. I could not help but smile while thinking of her. She was all that I cared about at the moment. Even after lunch, as I struggled to focus on my class work, she was all that I could think about. Her long blonde hair, beautiful face, glistening white teeth… And I had known her since she was six or seven years old.
Days went by, and I did not see her again. Soon, the days became weeks, and I wondered if I would ever have the chance to speak to her again. Then, one day after lunch, she came up to me and struck up a conversation. Once again, we reminisced on days gone by, laughing at our childhood antics. After being dismissed back to class, we parted again, and I thought that I was in love. I decided that I would ask her to the prom. I determined that I would have to work up my courage (I am very shy when it comes to girls) and ask her the next time I saw her. I went over it in my head over a thousand times that day, as I always do, and finally thought I was ready to ask. However, the next time I saw her, I received a not-so-shocking surprise.
The girl that I had sought after in elementary school, could not stop thinking of in high school, and hoped to ask to the prom had a boyfriend. It was not that big of a surprise, actually, but I took it hard. I saw him embrace her one day in the hall, and then kiss her another day. I was astonished, though it should have been a given that a gorgeous girl such as herself had someone already. I, however greedy it may seem, actually hoped that they would break up, just like many other high school couples. My mind was consumed with the thought of how it might be if they were to decide that they were not right for each other. I daydreamed about her constantly, wrote poetry about her during class, and prayed that the Lord would allow her to see me in a different light and fall for me as I had for her. My friends attempted to help me understand that I was well on my way to losing touch with reality, and failing Algebra II, all because I could not quit thinking about a girl that had a boyfriend and, even if she did not, could never feel the same way about me as I did for her.
It is amazing how much “love” can damage the human heart and soul. My heart was completely shattered on the night of the prom. I was dressed nicely, had someone to go with (which I would rather not discuss with anyone), and was ready to have fun and unwind. As I walked into the ballroom at the Georgia Club that evening, I thought to myself, “This is going to be the best night of my life thus far.” I had finally given up hope on that girl, and was desperately hoping that I would not see her there, fearing that I would fall back in “love” with her again. As I danced and talked, I let my mind drift away, forgetting all about her. I was in a state of euphoria.
My friends and I decided that we were exiting the building for a breath of fresh air, so we all made our way toward the main entrance. As we walked by the bench next to the door, one of my friends poked me in the side, pointing toward the bench. Utilizing my peripheral vision, I spied the girl whom I had tried to forget sitting with her boyfriend. I hastened my step, hoping to make a quick escape. As I rushed from the building, I heard one of my friends making small-talk with the girl whom I longed for. My other friends joined me outside the building, wondering why I rushed out so quickly. I told them that nothing was the matter as I turned my back to them and wiped a tear from my eye. My fear had come true; I had seen her with her boyfriend there at the prom, smiling and happy, while I was a wreck, fighting back tears. I knew that jealousy and anger would do nothing but cause trouble, so I simply drew in a deep breath, shook my head, and shrugged off the pain. I did my best to keep my cool as I stood alone, gazing up at the moon.
When I got home from the prom that night, I was immediately swarmed by my friends, all of whom wanted to play “Magic: The Gathering” with me. As I told them of my sorrows, they were quick to give me advice. However, hearing things such as, “I’ll beat the guy down for you,” “Just forget about her,” “If you really love her, then you’ll ask her out anyways,” and things of that nature failed to help me settle my dilemma.  The only help that they provided that night was a few games of “Magic” to take my mind off of the hurt. We talked and played for a few hours, wasting away the rest of the evening and some of the next morning. As they all packed up and left, my thoughts returned to that one moment that ruined my entire night. As I laid my head down on my pillow, I said a quick prayer and cried myself to sleep.
She and I have not spoken since the prom, and the pain soon went away. I came to the conclusion that the feeling, which helped me to write several poems and fail a class, was just teen hormones going wild. It may have just been a combination of stupidity and gas. I realize now that teenagers have no reason to think that they are “in love” with each other. I don’t understand why we teenagers waste our time with the commitment to a useless relationship, or dreaming of one, when we could be doing better things. Every day, I hear from one of my friends about how bad their relationship is with their girlfriend or boyfriend, and it deeply disturbs me. I don’t understand the feelings that they have that someone actually “loves” them, knowing that someone actually cares. Perhaps I just don’t want, or need, to know that feeling at this point in time. I suppose that I should have a feeling of pride as I tell them, “No, I don’t know what you are feeling. I have never been there before.”