Is He Staring? He's Totally Staring.

Last night, when I was watching crime shows and waiting for Fuzzle to text me and tell me he hadn't died on his way back home, I started thinking about human behaviors.

Specifically, high school behaviors.

In my opinion, high school as a whole is just one large awkwardness painfully stretched over four years, morphing through phases and changing shapes like a chameleon on steroids.

Well, while I was reflecting on said awkwardness, I started to wonder about something I saw in my own unsightly behavior.

I don't know if anyone else  had this problem, but during my entire high school career, I was hyper conscious of anyone looking at me.

Whenever saw––or even thought––someone was looking at me, my brain would convulse and release a deluge of questions, which usually ran along the lines of:

Oh my gosh! They're looking at me, does that mean they're thinking about me? What are they thinking about? Should I look back? What if I make eye contact? Then, I'll have to smile. I hate smiling at people because I don't want them to know that I'm looking at them. If they know I'm looking at them, then they'll think I'm thinking about them, and I'm not thinking about them, or at least I don't want them to know I'm thinking about them.  

[tl;dr] version: Oh, shit. Why?

Which would release adrenaline that would make my face flush involuntarily, most likely making people think that I had wet myself or some other embarrassment.

Of course, it was even worse when it came to boys, especially boys I liked at the time.

It was like my awkwardness had been forcibly given Speed and then sent to play with children with ADHD.

Whenever a boy even shot me a cursory glance or accidentally looked my direction after he turned around to talk check if his boxers were showing, it would feel like this:

Or like this:

Rather than register his glance as something normal, my neurons would misfire and interpret it as a secret devotion or overflowing love just waiting to break loose.

So, then I would fawn like a dog over this boy for the next couple weeks until I realized that they didn't even know I existed.

My ridiculousness makes me think of Helena from Midsummer Night's Dream.

"I am your spaniel; And, Demetrius, the more you beat me, I will fawn on you!" (Shakespeare 1.2.Something). [I did that from memory. Ooooh, yeah.]

I was such an embarrassment.

"Uuaagh, oh, [boy of interest's name], without you I'll just diiiiiiiie!" (Not Shakespeare).

But, after I healed from the wounds of my own self-delusion, the process would inevitably restart when some other poor sap would, in misplaced politeness, bless me when I sneezed. 

I'm sure other people had this same problem, but probably not through their entire high school career. 

I'm really not surprised that I never had a boyfriend until I got to college, but you all know what a horrible failure that was also. [See Not So Tragic Love Life of Kate Awkward Parts One and Two]

Well, at least until this year. 

I luh you, Fuzzle. 

I think I can name pretty much all of the boys that I was interested in throughout those four years, albeit in no particular order.

For their dignity, I will not put last names.

1.) Kyle

2.) Jared

3.) Adam

4.) Jantzen

5.) Eddie

6.) Jeff

7.) Bryan

8.) Dave

9.) Colin

10.) Jason

11.) Casey

12.) Matt

13.) Matt

14.) Matt (Yes, they're all different.)

15.) Andrew

16.) Johnny

17.) Chris

18.) Andrew

19.) Kyle

20.) Louis, fondly known as Lucy.

21.) Adam

22.) Stevie

23.) Sean

23.) Blake

24.) Kerry

25.) Kevin

26.) Kyle (They were triplets.)

27.) Tyler

28.) Trey

Yes, I'm that flighty. No, I'm not making it up. No, none of them were repeated and I'm sure there were more. 

I'm sure some of you, if anyone is reading this, are wondering, "Did you talking to any of them??"

The answer is no. 

That would require me to have a spine. 

Let me give you an example of a typical Katie-Guy conversation. 

Boy: Hey, Katie.

Katie: What? Oh! He-hey, there!

Boy: What's up?

Katie: Oh, nothingreally, justyouknow, waitingforclasstostartandjustsncnbdjsfjdhgbxmncjvdfh.

Boy: Wh-what'd you say?

Katie: Nothing! How'reyou?

Boy: Good. Thanks.

(awkward pause)

Boy: Soooo, what class are you going to?

Katie: Uuuuuh, World History... NO! (high-pitched giggle) Sorry, that's tomorrow. I have Acting 2.

Boy: Cool. See you.

Katie: See ya! 

Oh, the shame. 

So, clearly there would be no reason for me to talk to them because I would only end up making myself look like a caffeinated squirrel trapped in a human's body.

BUT. 

I grew up and I can talk to people normally now.

So, there is hope for all you awkward people out there!

If I were to give you any advice on getting out of this little rut, it would be: 

Don't watch early morning cartoons on WB and actually go out and talk to people.

Okay, that's all I got. 

I'm Kate Awkward and I approve this message.

Peace off.