Most embarrassing moment

So one of my favorite bloggers recently asked her readers what their most embarrassing moment was. Well that got me writing. So here it is for you all to enjoy...

Oh boy, this one brings me back to high school. When I had the crush of the century. See I was in the journalism class at good ol’ Woodbridge High School and I was in my first year. Well when I met the editorial staff there and I fell hard for the Editor-in-Chief, his name was Patrick.

Now in no way did Patrick give me any attention, any reason for me to like him. In fact he was actually not the nicest or handsomest person on Earth. But I had rose-colored glasses on when it came to him, he was everything I wanted to be… intelligent, literary, alternative, older and he couldn’t care less what everyone else thought of him.

I spent more than a year falling for him, all the while keeping it a deep, dark secret. No one knew. I bottled it all up while trying to get closer to him, learn from him, visit his workplace (the art cinema house) and join things he was in (ahem…Latin Club, as if that isn’t embarrassing enough).

Well when he was a senior and I was a sophomore I had had enough. I just had to tell him. I – had – to. So being the literary fiend I am I wrote out my feelings in a letter. A page long letter. I simply stated that I had feelings for him and he didn’t have to respond to the letter if he didn’t want to, I just had to get the information off my chest. I worked so hard on that letter, writing and rewriting it in all its glory.

So after spending three agonizing long days at home (it was a long weekend) after giving him the letter on Friday. I get back to the class on Monday, somewhat excited, somewhat scared.

I walk in and everyone sort of looks at me. Now by no means was I at all noticeable, I never stood out in that class (well except to the teacher, who liked my good attitude and writing). I sat down at my desk and began to work on my latest article, all the while wondering why everyone was acting so strange.

Finally the only girl editor, who I guess took some sort of pity on me, brought me out in the hall and showed me a piece of paper. My Letter. Reprinted in its entirety.

She then proceeded to tell me Patrick had an underground literary magazine and that most everyone in the class had a copy and knew that I had written that letter to Patrick.

I could have died. Not only did Patrick print my personal letter for all his friends to laugh at, he told them all he though it was the most hilarious thing he had ever read.

So not only did I get rejected that day, the whole world knew I was rejected.

Sitting in class for the next 45 minutes could quite possibly be the most embarrassing 45 minutes of my life.