I'm Sorry, April Smith

If I had a time machine, I'd go back to the Spring of 1985 and redo this one pivotal event.

It was a Thursday night in the Spring of 1985. I was about to finish the fourth grade. My family had already moved to the next county over, but my dad was still driving me to back to my school every morning so that I could finish out the year at my current school before transferring to the new county's school system next year to start the fifth grade.

I had had a long-standing crush on this girl named April Smith all throughout that year - well, ever since I met her, actually - probably beginning in second or third grade. I used to have daydreams in class of stealthily holding her hand in the hallway when the teacher wasn't looking. Every time Hold Me Now by the Thompson Twins came on the radio, I would think of her. It was such an innocent childhood crush, but I was always too shy (and too concerned with what my friends would think) to ever tell her or let on as to how much I liked her. In those days, girls had cooties at age 10 and you got made fun of relentlessly by the boys if you ever let it slip out that you crushed on one. Yes, things are much different now - kids express this at a much earlier age in today's world. Modern childhoods don't last nearly as long as they used to, but I digress - that is a subject for another time.

On this particular Thursday night, the class was all together for our weekly skating party. Man, I loved those - such good times. Anyway, this may very well have been the last one of the year. If not, it was one of the last few. I knew that I was never going to see these friends again after that year and it saddened me, but I wanted to make the best of the time I had left. The time came for the couple skate. I heard the opening keyboard notes of I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore by REO Speedwagon playing. I envisioned being able to take April's hand and skate with her in our own little world without having to worry about the ribbing I would take from the guys at school the following day.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the metal railing, prepared to sit out the couple skate as I had always done in the past. Then, as I heard Kevin Cronin begin singing the opening lines of the song, I saw her skating toward me. Time slowed down. This image is stamped in my mind forever: her gliding toward me - the dark atmosphere with just colored mood lighting reflecting off her long red hair. Nothing else and no one else existed in that moment. When I realized what was happening, I panicked. I wanted to skate with her so badly, but what would all my friends say and do to me tomorrow? The torment would be never-ending (at least in the mind of a 10-year-old).   As she neared, April looked me right in the eyes and said, “Will you skate with me?”

- - - - -

For a second, I froze. It seemed an eternity.

- - - - -

I was stupid, and, in the heat of the moment, I made the absolute wrong decision. I threw my hands up, skated backward about 5 feet, curled up my nose, and exclaimed, “EEEE! No!” Not just, “no”, but “EEEEEE, no!” A term of disgust that one would shout when coming across dog vomit on the carpet. I instantly regretted it as April turned and skated away. I couldn't believe my reaction, and to this day I still regret it. Maybe I've over-analyzed it throughout the years, but something in me wonders if this was the one turning point when everything went wrong between me and my ability to show affection openly to girls that I secretly liked. I was never very good at it, even as an adult.

I rode home in the car that night with silent tears, knowing that April had taken the chance to reveal herself to me, that she liked me as well, and knowing that I had ruined it forever.

I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore is still a bittersweet song for me. I love the childhood nostalgia it gives me, but this particular memory cuts me like a dagger. I sometimes wonder how things would have been different if I'd skated with her. Granted, I was still about to transfer to a new school, so I know there wouldn't have been anything long-term, but what if we did get to sneak holding hands in the hallway off and on for the rest of the school year? Wouldn't that have been something! I just hope I did not hurt her confidence with my stupid actions. This is the part about this memory that haunts me the most. I hope that I did not do any irreparable damage to her psyche.

If I had the chance today, I would tell her how sorry I am for that night. I have regretted it for 38 years. Not because I wish we ended up together or anything like that - not at all, as I love the family I have today. But simply because I hate the thought of her having this memory as well, but being on the receiving end of some elementary school classmate that treated her like a jerk. With any luck, maybe she doesn't remember it at all - which, if I'm honest, would also be kind of sad. I often wish I could go back in time and have a “redo” of this chance. Wherever you may be today, “I'm sorry, April Smith.”

Author's Note

I'm just jotting this down as a memory that flooded me again recently. It doesn't really fit into any category.