The Nicest Boyfriend I Never Had

Long, long before I became a slut – in fact, when I was still a high-school virgin – a really, really nice boy was completely in love with me ... and I was absolutely, positively oblivious to the fact.

J. and I met at the University of Texas - Austin the summer before our senior year of high school. We were both in a "gifted and talented" program for minorities called LEAD.

Here are all the signs the boy loved everything about me, even my dirty drawers:

• He painted my toenails for me.
• He talked to me for hours.
• He bought me the 12" version of George Michael's "Monkey" single.
• He even flew from Philadelphia to see me after the program was over.

Here are all the reasons it never even occurred to me that J. was interested in me:

• Except for a different J. in kindergarten, who I used to smooch with in the coat closet, I had never had a boyfriend or been on a real date.
• Even though I was actually quite cute and sort of knew it when I looked at pictures of myself, I was convinced I was ugly. (In middle schools, the boys rated me and gave me Cs, Ds, Es and a Z – all except for C., who kindly granted me a B+.)
• I was jumpy around men. Probably due to one of my dad's methods of discipline: "bapping." Out of nowhere, BAP! He'd zing me or my siblings with a backhand slap to the forehead.
• J. never came right out and said, "I really, really like you. Do you wanna go with me?" (Yes, in the 80s, that's how we referred to dating: it was called "going together.") Years later, we reconnected by phone and he confirmed, "I was so completely in love with you. Why do you think I painted your toenails?"

But the truth is, I never knew J. cared about me, because it never even occurred to me that anyone could be attracted to me. I thought of him as a "friend," not because I wasn't attracted to him, but because it didn't occur to me that I should be attracted to him.

I had a blind spot when it came to nice, sweet, wholesome, smart, wonderful and not-at-all bad-looking boys who happened to be crazy about me. Unfortunately, that blind spot followed me well into my adult life.