Health & Wellness

Why *chasing* love takes it a little too far

This is a story about how love can embarrass the heck out of you.

I was in the 3rd or 4th grade and at the height of preteen awkwardness. I hadn't figured out what to do with my curly hair and I was completely obsessed with those colorful rubber bands you put around your braces (remember the glow in the dark ones?). But still, I had the confidence of a young Cameron Diaz and my eye on a classmate named Steven.

I don't know what came over us, but we started to chase him.

It just so happened that Steven and I, along with a lot of girls from my class, all lived on the same block and walked the same route home. It was fall and there were leaves everywhere. We could see Steven walking alone ahead of us, and I don't know what came over us, but we started to chase him.

It was slow at first; we just wanted to walk fast enough to catch up to him. But when one of the girls started to get ahead of the group, the rest would catch up - until we were in a full on sprint, racing with each other to get to him first.

Upon hearing the sounds of a thousand leaves crushing under the weight of half a dozen preteen girls, Steven turned around, his eyes widening at the fiasco, and started to run. We love you, Steven! we cried out, closing in. I vaguely remember holding my arms out as I ran, but I'm not sure if I'm imagining that part. Was I crying, too? No, that sounds crazy. But maybe?

Steven made a sharp turn onto a street at the bottom of the hill. As his momentum shifted to the right, he slipped on a pile of fresh leaves, fell to the ground, and scraped up his hands and knees bad. Even worse is that the group of us, who were not five seconds ago screaming "We love you, Steven!," acted like NOTHING HAPPENED. We made a left at the bottom of the hill and carried on.

I still cringe when I think back to this poor young boy being chased by a group of girls down a hill and into the ground . We went to school together for the next ten years, but never spoke another word.


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photo credit to Papersol

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