My First Crush

When I was in third grade, I sat across from none other than the one and only Jared Vestal. He was super silly, sporty, and fun to be with. Halfway through the year, I also discovered that he was Mormon. From that point on, I officially had a crush on him. Naturally. We were pretty much destined for each other (how on earth could we not be?!!)

He was the reason that I got pulled out of class twice that year and had a talk with the teacher for being disruptive (the only two times a teacher has ever pulled me out to reprimand me!) He always invited me to play kickball with him and he always picked me for his team. I'm sure he even let me sit next to him at the lunch table, though I don't really remember. Obviously, we were a really serious item. 

Sadly, at the end of that year, his family decided to move. Our obvisoulymeanttobe relationship was being cut-off. Obliterated. Ended. The last time I saw him was at his house two days after school got out and he had a huge goodbye/birthday party. All I remember is a huge water fight and lots of boys. I felt pretty proud of the fact that I was one of only three girls that got invited. 

I was able to put Jared behind me. I was able to move on. But today, when I was looking-up random journal prompts to find something to write about, it made me think of Jared again and the very special and touching i'llpickyouformykickballteam relationship we had. Out of curiosity, I tried finding him on facebook (I know--creeper, right? But don't judge--you know you've done the same!) Lo and behold--I found him! It was the weirdest facebook creeper/stocker moment of my facebook creeper/stocker career (which I promise you, isn't that flourished of a career). He's on a mission right now in Guatemala, and he happens to be coming home from the MTC tomorrow--May 30th! Maybe I should be waiting in the airport for him with a big sign and a bouquet of flowers? 

Let's not even go into how big of an ohheavenspleaseno/i'mshudderingatthethought/ewe!!! idea that was, plus the few, minor (blaring) details that would make the whole thing extremely complicated. No, I think that dear Jared Vestal is cemented far back into the drawer of my 3rd grade memories, and that that is where he will be staying.