Girl Zero

It's spring once again.  The snow is melting, and that unmistakable smell of new dirt is in the air, and for some inexplicable reason, I find myself getting really twitchy lately.  At work I can't keep still and have a near constant urge to fling the door open and go run around the street for a while to burn off my excess energy.  Maybe it's the change in the weather, but I suspect it might be something else as well.  I can't really say what that something else is yet, because I don't want to jinx it, and it's too soon to blog about anything.  However, for those of you who still don't know what I'm talking about, this song should give you some hint of my current situation.

Anyway, I didn't post this to tell you all that.

Now, allow me to dredge up another story of awkwardness from my past.  This happened a very long time ago, perhaps even before I knew Number One, therefore the girl in question will be hereby called Girl Zero.  She was the first girl I can recall being attracted to, although in retrospect, I have no idea why I was thinking this way at the time.  Anyway, I would follow her around during recess, occasionally chasing her around, as kids tend to do.  So, one day I got the idea that Girl Zero would be my first kiss.  I suppose I'd heard about this kissing thing and thought it might be neat to try out.  I should point out here that Girl Zero had expressed little to no interest in me up to this event.  So, I was chasing Girl Zero around the playground one fine day, and finally stopped her long enough to pucker up and assumed she'd go along with it.  I closed my eyes for a moment, lips still in kissing position, then opened them again when I realized something wasn't quite right.  What I saw when I opened my eyes was probably the angriest girl on the playground that day.  And then, things went dark for a few seconds.  After the stars cleared, I realized I was on my back, and couldn't quite figure out how this had happened.  I think someone helped me up at some point.  I was stunned, my brain trying in vain to process the idea that the girl I liked had, in fact, punched me in the eye.  I carried that black eye with me for about a week after, and was forced to endure the barrage of insults from friend and for alike, for being 'beat up by a girl'.
I suppose there's some sort of moral to this story of unrequited love and violence, but I'll leave that to you to sort out for yourselves.  I just wanted to share the story, because as humiliating as it was, I think it was a story worth telling.  Also, it will tide you over while I figure out something else to blog about.