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called. I was getting the feeling he wouldn't ever call and that would be that. I was going to be a senior and I had only held hands with a guy in eighth grade.
When he finally did call, I was out in Oregon. But that didn't stop us from talking for hours. It wasn't about a lot of things. I liked just listening to all the information he was feeding me. I like the sound of his voice. It has a NY twang to it, but he can hide it when he is casual. It's when he's trying to impress it comes out a huge amount. Every time I called him he would always answer. And the way he answered! It was so, mischievous. It wasn't a statement but a question when he answered. As if to say, "How can I help you today?"

With in five minutes of our phone calls, he would count the amount of days it would be until I got home, so we could hang out. I was almost as eager as he was.

When I got home, one of the first things I did was call him.

Ring, Ring, Ring.

"Hello?"

"Is Seth there?"

"Nope."

"It's Caitlin."

"OK."

I called numerous times. I finally asked, "Do you know when he'll be home?"

The voice on the other end said, "He's working, I have no idea."

So I stopped calling. It wasn't worth hearing that he wasn't there and the only conversation I was having was with his brother.

I was driving into work one night. My phone said I had a voice mail. I checked it right away-it was an unusual event. It was him, "Hey Cate? It's me. You can call me at this number. I'm not home right now but maybe we can hang out?"

I didn't call him back right away. I waited until work was done. I already had plans with friends but I was willing to bend any thing to have him fit into a slot of my life.

Weakness is a myth.

We got together. We went to my family's land and hung out for a while. By the end of that date we had kissed at least twenty-five times. I was in love. I didn't think it was real, but neither did he. When we kissed, my feet drove into the mud so I wouldn't slip down under his chin. I closed my eyes, and I hoped I would be a good kisser. But he wasn't embarrassed to tell me the truth. We hugged each other. I didn't want to do anything except for hang on to him. We went and saw a movie. I can't remember exactly what it was, just because I was so distracted. So infatuated but I could finally admit it to him.

All good stories have to have an end, and this is no exception. We continued to date for a little over a month. By the end I didn't want to separate but I had so many other pressures. My friends didn't like him and that feeling of having to prove to them and I, he was better then what they saw, was distasteful, and frustrating. I broke up with him. He didn't pressure me into breaking up with him, but more surprisingly he didn't try to talk me out of it. He knew I was too strong, he knew I was too confused. He knew me. When we broke up, it was understood that we would stay friends and keep hanging out. I wonder if those were just words to make it easier. I have seen him three times since. And I can't stand hanging out because I feel that I have done wrong. I never told him the reason I broke up with him, because I don't understand, but the scariest thing was I was trying to change the one I loved.

I wish I could say goodbye, but that would do more damage. I wish I could explain to him, he can show his true self to everybody and he doesn't have to put up his shield. I wish I could look into those eyes and see the sparkle, but the only chances I get I am plagued and instead I put up my shield. I can't let him through anymore.

Learn more about this author, Cate Siegle.
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