By Bryson Beach
Call me soft, emasculate me, do whatever you want, but I’m a hopeless (and very helpless) romantic. I think a Walk To Remember is a great movie, I have a playlist labelled “<3” just to keep the good vibes going when I’m head over heels over someone. So it’s only natural that I get super hyped up or super emo around Valentine’s Day each year. Of course, my mood is always pushed one way or another based on my prospective muse at the time. As 2016 was coming to a conclusion, my friend Rachel made sure to pass along the ominous term of “Super Single ‘17” to me. I told myself, this year would be different, I was done with the #ForeverAlone life! But who was I kidding? I must have not picked Cupid for my pickup basketball team in gym class or something, because he’s been hatin’ on yours truly for year. My favorite Greek Mythology figure was always Hercules. Maybe that’s why Aphrodite has forsaken me too. Or maybe it’s Saint Valentine himself? To be so invested in this holiday, I haven’t the slightest inkling to its backstory or origin. You know what, I’ll Wikipedia it now!
Alrighty, I’m back. The story’s alright, I’m sure you’ll go read up on it your spare time, right? So I was just dwelling on when I became so emotionally invested in this gimmicky holiday. It had to be elementary school. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was a young curly head kid without his two front teeth at West Ruslip Elementary School in England going from classmate to classmate, putting some cheesy candy gram or sweet tart in a crappy-decorated shoebox. I can recall having crushes on girls even back then, but I had no idea what the end game was. The pinnacle at that point may have been holding hands on the playground. Also, with so many kids exchanging candy, weren’t any of the responsible adults aware of the risks!? I’m a diabetic now, it was probably all their fault. I should sue! It definitely has nothing to do with genetics.
The point I’m trying to convey, is even back then it meant something. That something meant a sugar rush and a potential headache for my au pair when I got home, but it meant something. Was I going to get the most cards, the most delicious candy, or did I have the coolest shoebox? It was an important day to a bunch of children who had to real grasp or concept of love, but the day still meant something.
Fast forward to middle school and high school. By then most of us were really taking an interest in the opposite sex (or same sex if that floats your boat or finds your lost remote… That’s an Outkast reference inside another reference! Boom!) At this point, I had to look cool in front of the ladies, I was worried about my hair, my clothes, and my perception. The freedom I had when I was a kid was gone and I became very self-conscious. Of course, the end game at this point was maybe getting a quick kiss in the hallway, for me anyway! Those vultures, the adults, who had promoted diabetes in elementary school started to capitalize on raging hormones and innocent crushes via real candy grams and compatibility tests.
I can remember the Student Council or some other extra-curricular school group would sit in the lunch room at good old West Middle School in the greatest city in America (Shelbyville) and over to personally deliver a rather generic cherry sucker to the person of your choosing for a dollar! This was an opportunity to really go for it. I beg momma for a dollar, probably lie and say I need it for a special lunch item or to get a cool pencil out of the machine in the library, when in reality I would use that dollar to send a candy gram to that beautiful girl I was afraid to speak to in person. Of course, I was assured this was a very wise investment because she asked for the answer to question 7 on the science test and I let her in on the answer. We were in love! Not. Not at all.
Then, when I had been promoted from a West Middle Warrior to big bad Shelby County High School Rocket, those adults got me again. Just like the previous times where they hid behind the ‘student’ council, BETA society, or chess club, they were back at it with compatibility tests. You answer a series of generic questions and if you paid $2 then you could get your results to see who else in the school you were compatible with. They were really taxing out there! I may have had to lie to my mom again, but Valerie Beach would understand since it was in the pursuit of love, right?
So I’m assuming that this little cheesy test will confirm the suspicions that the cute girl from my bus route was meant to be because sometimes we sat near each other! Oh no, what if it’s the wild sophomore who I have a scene with in the spring musical? Surely our on-stage chemistry is a reflection of what could be when we weren’t getting our Richard Gere & Julia Roberts on, right? Nope. Not. At. All. I want a frickin’ refund, SCHS.
Despite the gimmicky attempts by the school to make a quick buck off the special day, it did mean the world at that point. I was older, I was pretty sure I knew what love was because I’d listened to a ton of Boyz II Men, Babyface, and Luther Vandross and they were singing their hearts out about love and heartbreak. I also had an extremely lucrative part time job at McDonald’s, so I could buy gifts and stuff! I remember through some luck (or curse), I ended up being the only guy in my French 3 & 4 classes. Of course I only ended up taking French instead of the much more practical and useful Spanish because I convinced myself knowing such a language would help me with women. Remember when I said I was a very helpless romantic? This is one of the great illustrations; I remember like yesterday bringing in a rose for reach peer in my French class for Saint Valentine’s little special day. Of course, there was one particularly gorgeous upper classmate I adored. I coughed up like $7 and got her a bracelet. She clearly liked me because we would sometimes be partners when practicing French dialogue, right? Nope. Not a chance.
(Bonus illustration of my helpless romantics: If I played a video game like Final Fantasy where you could rename the characters, I’d take full advantage of it. Cloud or Squall would be renamed Brys naturally because they were the main characters. The comical characters or sidekicks would be renamed after my homies, ofcourse. But the love interest of the main character… you guessed it. They’d be renamed to that of the girl I was convinced I’d be marrying that week. Can you imagine coming up to a girl and being like ‘I named you in my game! We slayed the Omega Weapon together!!! Nerdy and lame. That’s me).
By the summer of 2006, this SCHS Rocket was blasting off into the air to become a Louisville Cardinal. I had one serious girlfriend in high school. She was great, but it didn’t work out. Just between us, totally not my fault. As I started my brave new journey at the greatest university in the galaxy, I got the chance to meet hundreds of new friends, grow up, and travel to the most frustrating place on the earth. I wonder if any of y’all have been there. See this location seems to have all you want. It has great company, laughs, and potential. The further you go into this island that seemed nothing but a tropical paradise, you soon discover it’s a bit of a mirage. Being there is like running out of bottled water in the middle of the ocean. Welcome to THE FRIENDZONE. Spending too much time on the friendzone island will really make you question yourself. Sure you’re repeatedly told how much of a great guy you are, how some woman will be truly blessed to have you as her Prince Charming one day, but it never seems to come to fruition.
Being left on the Friendzone Island always seemed to happen as I built up my confidence to ask that lovely lady out for a beautiful Valentine’s Day dinner. I was gonna have the candlelight, I was gonna have the sappy R&B playing (I got playlists for every situation on my iTunes, fam), and it was going to be magical. Nope. Never materialized.
Some of my peers dealt with loneliness by dubbing Mr. Valentine’s Day “Single Awareness Day”, others simply drank themselves stupid. If it hasn’t become apparent through this piece or previous ones, I’m a bit of a square. I didn’t have my first sip of alcohol till I turned 21 because it’s illegal before then!!!! Even after that, I didn’t starting drinking drinking till I was around 23, but I digress. I was fortunate to have a great group of friends in those college years and for most of it we all were single on each February 14th. So what did we do? Go out to eat as a group, chill, have impromptu dance parties, or sing karaoke games on the PS2. It was lit.
I was/am an adult now and it means more than ever. I could place the importance on love any day of the year, but since I was a mini-Brys, I’ve been trained to think so much of this day. I always joke with my friends my ultimate goal in life is to “get wifed up and act brand new”. In plain English, I jokingly claim to find the love of my life, settle down with her, and cease all communication with my friends and put all my focus of my lover. Now, to find ‘bae’ I need some momentum that will crescendo on Valentine’s Day. In my warped mine, the journey starts on New Year’s Eve.
NYE should be a time to celebrate another year with loved ones and friends, getting very intoxicated, and starting the next year on a high note. That’s how it’s supposed to be. It usually starts out that way , but then ole’ emo ‘I Need A Girl Part 1’ by Diddy & Usher Bryson has to come out. When the ball drops, you’re supposed to have a kiss right? That’s the springboard to avoid the annual ‘Just me January’ and power thru February 14th and if I can make it there, the possibilities are endless. This plan sounds ridiculous at best, but it’s a plan! Of course, in 2014 and 2015 I got my kiss. I was making out with a big, beautiful bottled figure…. Bottle of champagne. #Losing.
I had resigned to my own fortress of solitude forever. My new prerogative was to be the freshest man in the building every February. My uncle had given this dope pink Lacoste cardigan. You’re darn right, I wear it every year with a matching tie. At least I’ll look good right?
This past year in general was pretty good. I got a new car, got a promotion, beat The Witcher 3, and got to relive my former glory of being a Pokémon master thanks to a neat little app. It was truly a banner year for one Bryson Tyler Beach! My Valentine’s Day was okay. There was a lot of snow, but I had just purchased my car the day before so while I was Bae-less, it was alright. Carmen Elantra could be my bae that day. I spent the majority of the summer chasing someone who it didn’t work out with. Down in my dumps and ready to throw in the towel like Rocky should have down for Apollo, I turned to a notorious ‘dating’ app for all the superficial reasons. Be more savage! That’ll work! I met the most beautiful, down-to-earth, sincere, funny person I ever met in my entire life. It was a real connection and this probably sounds super corny (once again that’s my shtick), but to this day when she texts me, I get this huge smile on my face, even if it’s just a “how are you”? As my luck would go, it was the perfect girl at the wrong time and all I got to share with her in person was a month. Who knows, maybe I should just suck it up and follow her out west? I’m too much of a coward. LOL! He thinks I forgot, but Cupid is probably behind this. Such a hater.
The roller coaster continued as I started falling for someone who was coveted by a friend for a while. I kept it to myself, even if it was obvious to the world and did what I could to make them work. Have y’all ever heard the Kanye song“Theraflu/Cold”? There’s a lyrical sequence in there that goes as such: “And I’ll admit, I had fell in love with Kim/Around the same time she had fell in love with him/Well that’s cool, baby girl, do ya thang/Lucky, I ain’t had Jay drop him from the team” Well if you pretend I’m Yeezus, Kim is the girl who I coveted, and ‘him’ (Kris Humphries IRL) is my friend then you get it. Of course, the team in the real song is the Nets. That’d be replaced by the greatest indoor soccer team of all time, Harambe FC, and Jay-Z would also be me because I am the coach/founder. Confused yet? I’ll do you one better!
Y’all remember that Usher song “You Make Me Wanna”? How he’s talking about he wants to leave the one he’s with and start a new relationship with the one who he used to run and talk to when he and his girl were having problems? (I hope you’re singing this sentence to the melody, by the way). In this scenario I was hoping she would feel like Usher, and I’d be the one that’d make her wanna.
Still confused? He’s another song example! Jk jk of course, when the time was right and the two were done, I told her my sentiments. I shot my shot as the kids say these days and… I shot a brick off the rim. Vanquished to the Friendzone again, but it’s okay because she’s still incredible, even If she says I’m just a friend *Mario Voice*
So here I am, sitting in a bed at 3:09 AM on January 15th with my cat, Ginobili, lying next to me sulking and worrying over some stupid holiday again. The Bryson Tiller bumping through my earphones right now doesn’t add to the situation. In-The-Feels-Friday has carried over through the weekend! This is supposed to be the conclusion, the paragraph that wraps up everything. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m even writing this piece. I haven’t written anything for a while and it’s still a month away from Valentine’s. Maybe I’ll meet her tomorrow? Maybe she’s at work? Maybe she’s on the soccer team (Though TMZ would love a juicy coach/player romance!), or maybe I won’t meet her ever. I know one thing, writing this piece has been low-key therapeutic. I can be romantic, I don’t need a random day in February to justify it. Just quickly scanning over what I’ve written is hilariously sad. It’s gonna be alright, but if you’re not doing anything on Tuesday, February 14th, shoot me a text J. #ShootYourShot2017
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