Kalah Allen

You were the beautiful one. Cheerleader. Rose Festival candidate. Liked by everyone, and therefore, of course, well out of reach for the nerds and geeks like me. A couple years after high school, I ran into you at the PSU candy counter. You didn’t really remember me. But you were as sweet and stunning as ever. That evening, I wondered, “What would she say if I called? Would I have the courage to ask out the prettiest girl in school?”

So I called and asked for a date. Of course, you said no. It wasn’t like in the movies, where the beauty and the goofball live happily ever after. But from that phone call and forever after, I was never scared to call a woman. If I was ever nervous, I would tell myself, “You called Donna. This call is easier.”

Sure, I got brushed off lots of times, but I also got some dates—including one with the woman I’ve been married to for 30 years. So I hope you are well, and I thank you for being the girl to build me up by tearing me down.—Anonymous