#5 – The Clarinet Player

Being a musician myself, it’s normal that, from time to time (more like all the time) I find myself attracted to musicians. It’s a natural thing to happen, I think, seeing as music is such a big part of my life.

When I was fourteen years old, I joined the local town philharmonic band. Compared to the other band members, I was quite ‘old’ to start learning music and an instrument, but I got the hang of my flute in under four/five months. My best friend was in the band and … so was my at-the-time crush.

After I broke up with the Cuban, I didn’t really waste any time in moving on to greener pastures. About two weeks later, I was making plans to clandestinely make out with the Clarinet Player.

When I was 14, the Clarinet Player seemed very charming to me. He was already on his way to his 12th grade, I was just wrapping up 9th grade, and he played so well. He still does, actually – I hear he has a very promising future ahead of him in music, and I’m quite happy for him. At the time, he was quite a catch.

So, during the local fair, the Clarinet Player and I made plans to make out a little bit before heading there, after our 9pm band rehearsal. However, this plan wasn’t quite successful, seeing as we stupidly decided to do it near a parking lot where, coincidentally, our fellow band members had parked their cars. Needless to say, there was no making out, and we ended up getting a ride to the fair with some of those band members.

Finally, we made plans to make out exactly a week before my 15th birthday. I remember it because it was the birthday of one of my friends, whose birthday is always exactly one week before mine. I had made plans with my best friend to go to the pool but, before that, I was going to pay a quick trip to the band headquarters.

I don’t exactly remember how the make out session went. I know I felt really awkward because he was just so tall and suddenly uninteresting, and I just wanted to leave. He wasn’t a very good kisser either – his tongue was just … barely there, and I felt like an inexperienced kid all over again (although, that is exactly what I was).

When I was leaving, I think I looked a bit off, because he asked me what was wrong and my reply was ‘this wasn’t very good’. Then I simply left. Needless to say, we only talked with ‘those intentions’ in mind only one more time, and it led to nothing, especially because something incredibly pointless and complicated happened with that same friend whose birthday was exactly one week before mine – I think he was flirting with her or something and I got jealous, even though I had no reason for it.

In any case, my crush on him didn’t last long. After him, came my Ex-Boyfriend, the ultimate Ex-Boyfriend, and that’s when my life never quite became the same again.

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#3 – The ‘Cuban’

The ‘Cuban’ was a meaningless (but kind of necessary at the same time) chapter of my life. You see, I was 14 years old and in my 9th grade. All of my friends were getting boyfriends and having their first kiss, they texted boys back and forth all the time, and I was just there, single and text-less. So, when I was sitting on the steps of my school one afternoon with my best friend and this new foreign student walked by and stared at me the entire time, I decided to take action.

I was 14, though, so when I say ‘take action’, I mean that people started spreading the word ‘oh, I hear Cuban is interested in Isis’ ‘I think she’s interested too’, blah blah, until it reached his ears. It all happened very fast, actually. He asked me to ‘take a walk around the school’ with him (unfortunately, it was how we all spent all of our recesses), told me he liked me, and kissed me.

My first kiss was nothing wonderful and romantic. It was just that, a kiss. I was inexperienced, so I basically just did whatever he did and prayed to God it was okay. It started open-mouthed right away, and then he just got his tongue in the mess and I just thought ‘to hell with it …’

We became boyfriend and girlfriend after that, but the relationship only lasted three or four months, until I graduated middle school and went to my 10th grade (first year of high school), leaving him behind. Oh right, did I mention he was one year younger than me, therefore in his 8th grade? Right. Also, I didn’t get a texting partner at all, because he didn’t even have a cellphone. I’m not sure he has one right now, actually.

During those three/four months, though, we spent many recesses holding hands and walking together, kissing but not really making out (14 year old me didn’t know the difference and thought kissing for a long time was the same thing as making out), and smoking together. Ahh, the joys of dating someone who also smokes.

In any case, on the last day of 9th grade exams, we had a talk and decided to break up, because the distance would be too big (I’m not even lying when I say our high school is 2 streets down from our middle school) and I’d find a high school guy to be interested in. This ended up being very true, actually. But, like all other stories, that is a story for another time.

As he told me that we had to break up, I got a little teary-eyed, but didn’t cry. Instead, I smiled at him, wished him good luck with everything, and went to meet my friends at the bar, where I cried about 5 tears, had a soda, a cigarette, and moved on to greener (or not, really) pastures.

‘Cuban’, although meaningless, marked the start of my dating life. And boy, what a life it has been! I can’t wait to tell you about it.

 Until next time,

Isis