My first semester freshman year, I had my First College Crush; he was a total dreamboat, complete with swoopy hair and the confidence of a college sophomore. We’ll call him Kyle for reasons you’ll find out later. One night, we were hanging out in my dorm room (I don’t remember what we were doing; all I recall were pillows and roughhousing. It was an awkward time), and Kyle grabbed my pillow and headed for my bed. In what I can only assume was a failed attempt to get it back, I pushed him and, due to my brute strength that is incredibly unbecoming in a girl, Kyle flew into my bed. Bed frame, to be exact. There was a moment of pure stillness where I could pretend that everything would be okay in the world. And then a single drop of blood fell from Kyle’s nose and he aptly stated, “Fuck.” After that, everything went to hell. Kyle’s nose exploded with blood, the RA burst into the room, my roommate’s jaw dropped, and I wanted to crawl into a black hole and never return.
The next six hours were worse than watching The Human Centipede with your eyes taped open. An ambulance came to check out Kyle’s nose and declared it broken. Yup, I had crushed his nose like Paulette broke UPS guy Kyle’s nose in Legally Blonde; only her way was adorably through the Bend-And-Snap and my way was by tossing him into a metal bed frame like an enraged She-Hulk. The RA had to file a report and write me up. I drove with Kyle in the backseat of a campus police car all the way to the hospital. For four excruciating hours, I sat with him while we waited for a doctor. Needless to say conversation was painfully awkward. I was a mess, constantly spewing “I’m sorry” and trying to smooth over the situation while Kyle reclined his head and tried not to cry from the pain. I think it’s obvious that relationship never worked out.
A whole year later, Kyle’s mom came to visit. For some god-awful reason, Kyle went into another room, leaving me and his mom alone for a moment. I kid you not, she turned to me and said, “Kyle still can’t take ibuprofen without his nose bleeding.” And just like that, all those memories of wanting to die a horrible death came rushing back. I don’t think she meant to make me feel bad (or maybe she did; you never know with mothers), but she certainly succeeded. So beware, if you think I have a crush on you, you probably should run in the other direction. I might accidentally kill you and piss off your mother.