Kimberly Frick, Where Ever You Are I Still Love You

Random thoughts on memories at a time of reflection.

Isn’t it funny that sometimes for no reason what so ever, you start to think about the strangest things. The memories of a person you that you miss so much and the emptiness you feel inside. I have. I think about regret and of how you wish that things could have happened differently. I have and often do. I still remember Kimberly Jean Frick, the girl I first met back in junior high school and how I was deeply in love with her.

Oh, I know what you must think that it was just a crush, not the first and not the last, but it one that really did hurt when she rejected me. I found myself deeply heartbroken, hurt, and wishing things could have been different. She was a short girl with hazel eyes and dark brown hair whose smile lit up a room when she walked in. She was smart, the smartest girl in the class, and so ambitious, so driven and who gave you strength within and encouragement as if you felt you could do anything for her. I felt like way everyday I saw walk into first hour. The way I messed up was the day when I “profess my love” to her in the awkward way that children do, and in so doing made her feel uncomfortable towards me.

Back then I wasn’t handsome, had zits, and was a geek. I was not someone she would ever look twice at, someone who could never hold her interest, and when she found out she naturally was disturbed. And as she reacted in the only way she knew how in those days; she hated me for what I did, and how I felt, and for what I had said, and I made an enemy that day. She hated me for the next seven years until we graduated from high school and we parted ways. I never saw her again. But I still think of her, as she was, and dream. Dream of being with her, of holding her, of wishing what might have been if she had only cared a little. But she did reject me and there was no way of changing that.

I became the person I am today because of her. I am a loving, thoughtful, insightful, and intelligent person who grew up caring about others. And even though she only exist as a memory I still can’t stop wanting to please her. I can’t stop wanting to prove that “I am and always was worthy” of her love. To try and try harder until someday I can say, “Kim, this is for you”!!! Sad, isn’t it? Or maybe not unless you see the sum of what it has given me - a purpose to continue to do better and survive. Maybe someday I’ll prove to her, or not, of the mistake she made. Maybe someday I’ll just give up and realize it never really was about her. That all I’ve accomplished I did for myself and for those who really cared about me. In the meantime, I still think about the empty spot inside, of what might have been...and draw strength from it.