Here is an important note to anyone who is or may be a parent:

When your child is very young, I mean like five years old, and they tell you that they have a crush on someone, do not, I repeat DO NOT make fun of them for it. If you do, it will be a very long time before they confide in you about anything romantic, which at some points in a person's life, is pretty much what's going on, what's bothering you, and what defines your behavior at the time. In fact, they may not forgive you until they've reached the point where they've made peace with their past and they become grateful just to have you. And for some people, that point never comes. A five year old can be very serious about their crushes, and when you make fun of them for it, you tag yourself as ultimately untrustworthy with their emotions.

Let me tell you about Dana Embree. This boy, I really, really, liked this boy. I met him in kindergarten. He was kinda quiet but quick to smile, not shy, but not a leader. And he could read, and nobody else could read. And I could read. And he was nice, and he was a nice boy. And you know, everyone is good looking when they are five.

And it was here when I told my mom about my crush on him. And it would be here when I would decide never to tell my mom about my crushes on people again.

He remained in my class as we moved up grades. It was a small private school, only one thirty-person class per grade. In first and second grade, the teachers realized we were both reading books in our laps when the rest of the class was learning how to read, and that our homework was at 100% and we didn't really care. So when it came time to learn reading, they put the two of us in the back of the classroom and let us choose books to read, which we would talk about with each other and write about to the teacher.

Do you know how much he meant to me at this time? Reading was the thing I loved doing, my sister taught me how to do it, and here was someone my age who understood that. He knew how I felt, and we would sit apart from the class reading our books and be glad to have each other there.

When we reached third grade, the principal asked him if he would like, and he agreed, to move up a grade. So he did.

I was furious. My partner was gone, and I was alone. Sure I had some friends in my class, but they made me feel dumb for being smart. I was alone. Thought to myself, I wanna move up a grade,too. I worked extra hard to prove that I should.

And within a month, the principal asked me, after having talked with my parents. Would you like to skip third grade? Yes. Yes, I would like to skip third grade.

Dana's mom, Kathy, was one of the nicer recess/lunch monitors. When I had not yet moved classes, but it was certain that I would, she came up to me and told me, "Dana was ecstatic when he heard you were going to join him." I know I was ecstatic to hear that.

But in fourth grade, boys and girls being social with each other had become taboo. Third grade would have been the transition, and we skipped it, and were dumped right into the separation of the sexes. And Dana and I were on the same level as everyone else, so there were no more excuses to hang out together. But I still had a crush on him. Of course I did. He was practically the reason I was there.

But we never hung out. I was pretty much taught by my mom that girls did not have boy friends, they had boyfriends. And one does not have boyfriends in fourth grade.

Ah, but we did compete. I was the only person who could read faster and could consistently trump him in vocab and spelling, and he was the only person whose time I couldn't beat in speed multiplication. In math he was still a grade ahead, and in reading I was obviously a cut above. It was the closest we could get to each other.

Enough to say that it fizzled. And when my libido arrived, there were many other options to consider.

But none of those other guys are important today, and Dana is. Pale, awkward, smart, funny Dana.

12:01 p.m. 2003-09-07�