I Ate KFC With a Nazi: Lust

For me personally, lust has always been the most difficult thing to cope with. I hate to admit it but I am not a lover. I do not enjoy the idea of cherishing one person for a long time. I want to have whatever I can get, and I want it quickly, without the complexities of letting my heart be worn on my sleeve. In my adolescence I was unattractive, so I partially blame that. I started to know of one-sided love and lust very early in live, but I did not feel the effects of anything mutual till my teen years. I knew back then of boyfriends and girlfriends, but I didn’t much care, since i’d known I couldn’t obtain any of that anyhow. My older sibling often brought over boys and so I saw first hand what that business was like, but being a late bloomer, I just assumed it would happen when I was her age. to some degree that was true but only because I subconsciously forced it as so. I knew nothing of love till high school, but I can fully admit lust has been with me for longer than I can even remember. I blame it on the hormones in milk, but who knows, it could just be how I am.

People always confuse love with lust or vice versa, and I can admit I’ve done it all too many times. Throughout my adolescence i’ve had a great number of chances where I could’ve fallen in love, or I could’ve avoided it and not hurt myself. A flaw in my personality is that I often find myself running away from love to pursue lust, only because it happens much quicker, and in most situations, has a more sure rate. I’d rather have those few moments with a person that I know are mutual than play the game of love by dancing around the idea. From my experiences I no longer believe in the fairy tale of true love, I will take what I can get.

Be it lust, or be it love.


I couldn’t have been any older than twelve or thirteen when I first met the boy I thought was the only one I’d love. I see now I was rather inept in my knowing of this sort of subject matter and eventually I’d learn that I never even knew his last name.

It was one of the hottest days we’d seen all summer and there I stood, friendless, by my self in the center of the playground. I cupped my hand over my eyes to survey the area. My one friend had a schedule that caused her to have recess at a different time than I. During these days I learned to waste time, and to this day I remain masterful at that task. I plucked at my white uniform shirt and released a deep sigh in hopes that time had lapsed faster than usual. As I took a quick look to my plastic watch, it was only a few minutes past the start. That’s when I saw him. That’s when I saw his blond self, standing over by “the bench”. The Bench was a place where all the skater kids hung out. All of them in their cool kid glory sat there relishing in their popularity. I heard the laughter from that area and watched as this new kid who seemed to catch my eye so diligently. I stared for a good few moments before I gave up. Knowing I was nothing to anyone, I was a realist from early on in life.

I kept my new found love secret for quite some time, until the day I thought I might as well speak it. I told my closest friend at the time, which in turn did exactly what I told her not to do. At the football game that night I had gone with her. It was a personal rarity for me to attend any sporting event, so the happening was historical anyhow. He sat in front of my friend and I, and overall I felt awkward about it. He barely knew my name, and I was there wishing I could say so much. My friend took the liberty and told him. It wasn’t that she just told him in confidence, she shouted it after it The boy simply shrugged it off and laughed. “She likes me? Impossible. She likes no one.”

For quite some time I forgot about that. I wasn’t exactly damaged because there was nothing entirely there. I’d been rejected by my first crush, but that was so benign compared to what I’d learn in my teenage years.


As I’ve grown into someone with a sure vision i’ve adapted into a liking a certain “type” of person. Anyone who knows me knows of my type, and i’ve even received gifts and often get comments on my odd taste. Most women go for tall, dark and handsome. I go for short, dark-haired and Jewish. This vision has become a plague on my insight. On so man people i’ve lacked a look into their interior because they lacked the fitting exterior. It has made me shallow in an offbeat way and has affected me quite a lot in my life.

It all started back when I came to Michigan in the halfway point of seventh grade. I was still an unattractive being, so my eyes were on them and their eyes were not on me. I understood this and had actually begun to enjoy it. It allowed me to develop admiration but no connection, I strived on being alone. One boy in particular made himself noticed by all, and in turn gained my attention. He was loud, hilarious and charismatic. He wasn’t gorgeous but he wasn’t ugly with his big Afro of black hair and his dark eyes. I remember his stature was equal with mine at the time and he wasn’t the thinnest boy to show up on the block. I felt somewhere in my heart that I had a chance, but really I never spoke to him. He’d talk to someone near me and I’d chime in with a clever retort, but not much became of it. I went through the majority of my positive changes by sophomore year and he had sat next to me in English class, or at least sometimes he did. I never took it as a move to be closer to I, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I was a silent admirer for almost six years.

He switched schools during the winter of that year and never had I wished he hadn’t. Occasionally I’d see him around town and he’d award me a hug, but little else. I even joined a charity group that I didn’t care about, just because he was at the meetings. My feelings dwindled with time, as all feelings do, and for the most part I had gotten over him and forgotten him entirely. It wasn’t difficult, since I ceased to ever see him at all.

I wasn’t until one week in my senior year when my best guy friend at the time offered me the invitation to stay at his place with a couple of other friends, since his parents were out of town. I took up the offer because really i had little else to do, and when my friend told me that the Jewish boy i had enjoyed for so many years was going to be there, I wouldn’t dare not show up. I had by this time actually mastered my appeal and was a slightly above average being. I had gone through all the boys you’re about to read about and was rather seasoned in the art of attraction. I had no feeling left for this boy, but I had to get a subtle revenge for those years of neglect. I packed my things when I got home and took the bus to the Burger king where my friend picked me up. we arrived at his home and there was that boy I’d for so long enjoyed, sitting there, a smile on his face. Things went much differently than I assumed. He thought of me as a friend but he seemed slightly more…affectionate. He;d given me my eighth or ninth hug of the night when my friend Evan finally looked at me with confusion. He simply shrugged and told him to ignore it. Neither of them knew the turmoil this was putting me through. My friend eventually went up to bed and the boy stayed on the downstairs couch with me. We watched a racing film starring Steve McQueen. I was an insomniac so sleep didn’t come easily, and the couch was large enough that we were not cuddling in any way. his head rested on arm of it, my head on the other. I awoke the next morning in a rush and got ready. He gave me a hug goodbye, since he had to go to school. I waved him away and went with my friend to school as well. All during the day my thoughts were clouded by the messages I was receiving. I didn’t like this boy anymore, or were the feelings just laying dormant in hopes something like this would happen? I made the mistake of telling a female friend about the happening and she simply sent me excited texts back. I felt confident in myself and decided to just let things happen. My friend invited me back for a second night and I was happy to go, in hopes of receiving a conclusion. We played the same game during the evening. He’d stand very close or touch my shoulder, I’d reply with a shove or a touch to his hair. I was doing the one thing different from the day before, and sending messages back. I cooked dinner for the pair when they went to go sneak some cigars and we all enjoyed it. when we went downstairs to watch television my friend departed quickly and it was only the boy and I sitting on the couch. We were sitting close but not too close, and after a while he simply stood up and said good night. I sat there feeling defeated. My heart sank in my chest, but I wasn’t going to let this one chance get away from me. I picked up my phone and sent a text asking if he “liked” to me.

A tactic you’ll see I’ve used often.

I heard his phone ring from upstairs and I felt excitement and shame all in one. I didn’t know what to do with myself if he said no, at least it wasn’t face-to-face. He replied back in good time and said he doesn’t know if he likes me but he feels attracted to me. I felt that answer was good enough so I sent an invitation his way to come back downstairs. In a good five minutes he joined me. We watched a part of The Basketball Diaries before things got out of hand. I had been unknowing of that part of life and it was something I still feel ashamed of having done. It wasn’t special and it wasn’t important to me. I can look back and realize that I was acting in the spur of the moment. I was acting on impulse and instinct, and I really hosted no feelings for him that were ever-lasting.

If it had ended there I would’ve gotten over the regret. The day after I had told a friend in confidence, hoping that she would understand my need to say it. She was someone i had trusted with so much before, and I thought this time would be no different. To my dismay she had told a friend and then that friend told someone they knew, and so on. Before I knew what I had done. I felt ashamed of what I’d done, to a degree. He eventually found out that I had told and now our friendship has never been so low. I haven’t spoken to him and I no longer even have his number in my phone. His last name is a word I’ve grown to fear and in all, I feel that he was the biggest mistake i’d ever made.

Yet if he reads this, and sees this section devoted solely to my experience, I’d like him to know that I didn’t regret having done it. I regretted having let anyone find out. I apologize for what I’d done, but at least know you’ve sculpted my view for the rest of my life. No longer do I try to live in the moment when it isn’t appropriate, an forever I will enjoy Jewish men as my aesthetic.


It was sophomore year of high school where I learned to play with the big kids. I’d still not gone through my exponential weight loss but I’d gained some personality that was beginning to help me in making friends. I had a class, Geometry to be exact, where I saw a person who’d changed my life to that day. I’d had a handful of crushes through middle school. My family had moved to Michigan during the halfway point of my seventh grade year, so I had my share of boys I liked. None of them ever knew, and none of them ever cared to know.

First day of my sophomore year I walked into the classroom. One of my not-so-great guy friends was in this class. I had a few acquaintances here in Michigan but by no means did I have any real friends outside of the three girls I had begun to pal around with. None of them were in this class, and so I was rather alone and hating this class before it even began. I walked in took the seat I was assigned and stayed quiet through most of it, all year.

Now I would’ve been fine. I could’ve just never said anything to him because I never spoke to him anyhow, but unfortunately the teacher wanted otherwise. In her evil ways she always assigned groups, and although I was always paired with the hockey kid, “his” group was always directly nearest to my own. I’d give empty glances his way, knowing damn well he didn’t even know my name.

My favorite recollection of his presence in my heart was when I had been grouped with my guy friend near the west end of the classroom and we had a math problem concerning the perimeter of a fence around a yard. I’m no whiz at math but I have a good sense of logic, so I came up with an answer. My guy friend and I were not overly confident about said answer so he asked the group beside us, which of course just happened to be the love of mine. Knowing my guy friend was talking to him gave me a shiver and I must’ve looked like an idiot, going all bashful and quiet. Finally he got up and came over and looked at my paper then questioned me how I got to that conclusion, since he had an entirely different answer. I explained my logic as best I could and he only continued to argue me. We debated the topic of who was right for a good five minutes before we decided to just see who was right. Turned out we were both horribly wrong, but nonetheless, it gave me that excuse to converse with him, and since that moment he became aware of my existence and never ceased to speak to me when he could.

Nothing ever happened between he and I romantically, but I can tell you that as my high school career progressed he and I only became better friends, and even as I write this now, I realize that somewhere in the recesses of my heart, I feel for him.

Ferry Days

During my summer between Junior and Senior year I was hell-bent on getting a new boyfriend. I’d had one prior and he sort of set a mile marker in my heart, and well, now I’d felt alone for far too long. I’d gone through my weight loss and by now had gained a rather decent reputation in my school. I was a cool kid if you could define it loosely. Though it was still apparent that my childhood had soured my social skills, for I still held very few friends, only had a good handful of acquaintances. Nonetheless, I thought I had grown my ego and fixed my appearance enough to be something that someone could love. Or at least enjoy. At sixteen everyone is beautiful, I heard that in a film somewhere and somehow it had sculpted my thought process into thinking I could get anyone I wanted. But love came in the most unexpected form.

He was two years my junior, lanky, curly-haired and a little bit goofy. He didn’t fit my usual bill of edgy and quiet. Now as I look back I can see why I liked him so much, he had a great sense of style and definitely resembled a young Bob Dylan.

Another sophomore had contacted me online and begun to chat with me, and finally this little bob Dylan had begun to do the same. Eventually he invited me to visit him at work before I headed off to my hell-job at the local grocery store. I considered it but still thought it rather forward, but who can turn down the making of a little buddy? So I agreed and decided to meet him the next day. It was hot outside and I felt a little perturbed by the fact that I had to sit on a boat for the next couple hours just to please this kid. I didn’t fall for him immediately, not in the least. I thought of him as just some kid that wanted to know me just like the rest did, but as the days grew on, our conversations got better, and I let my mind open, I realized I felt a little something for this child.

Now I was born with more gall than I should have, and I always take it upon myself to speed things along at a pace that is not natural. I waited probably only two weeks before I finally decided to say something to him about my feelings. The biggest fluke in my plan was that I did not do it in person. I composed a rather lengthy Facebook message trying to illustrate how I felt as best I could with my words:

All right ___, I wanted to tell you this in person but either one of us is trying to work or we’re with company. I’m kind’ve a very elusive person when it comes to purveying my more rare emotions (so this is anything that can be a sensitive subject. i.e. not happiness or annoyance).

I hate to ruin our little friendship but the more we hang out the more I’ve come to actually LIKE you. In a more…intricate way. I tried to hold it back because of the age gap but really; some things can’t be ignored for too long. I mean, from the start I thought of you as a “little buddy” but then I started really putting everything into retrospect and that way of seeing you really went out the window. I see you as a REAL friend like ____ or ___ are to me.

I’m being wordy so if you can’t tell what I’m getting at (the capital letters should’ve sold it) then I’m going to say it blatantly:

I’m starting to really like you as more than a friend….
So I leave you your options, really.
Perhaps you don’t like me like that?

That’s cool; I’ve had that happen before so I’m more than happy to just be friends. Really.

But if you do like me in that way or you just think you could, well I’m going to say, why not? It’s summer. We’re both bored.


And whenever I do think about the age gap I realize that ____ and ___ are two years apart too. And they seem just fine.

I sent this in a message because I’m real bad at doing shite like this face-to-face, I wanted to tell you all of this pretty much every time I got you alone but alas I didn’t; So I waited till late in the night/early in the morning to get my thoughts down.

So yeah, I took a gamble sending this to you, but that’s how I do things, yo. I like to spell things out like that, you’ll grown to learn that.

I don’t beat around the bush too often.

I sent that message at 1:46am of that morning, and I can promise you I regretted every moment of knowing it had been sent. I had such low confidence in it actually happening, since I’d messed things up so many times before, that I had cried myself to sleep in fear that I had just destroyed yet another friendship that I truly treasured. All the next day I heard and received no word back, and had just assumed he was ridding of my existence in his life or ignoring the fact that I had sent the message at all. A total of two days later I was sitting on my profile when he signed online. A rush of nervousness came to me and I half wanted to flee and just sign off hoping he didn’t notice my presence, but before I could close the window out a little instant message popped up from he. He told me to hold on, he was reading it. So I held on, rather literally, my hand clasping unto the mouse as hard as it could. He took his sweet time reading the message and finally replied back that he was starting to feel that way as well.

Needless to say my life was never the same. Our relationship was something that happened rather quickly, and while for the first month it went incredibly well. Things so good can only go downhill at a certain point and they surely did go downhill. I can’t remember the exact day we had our first argument or more so the first real argument. My boyfriend had a knack for making plans he couldn’t fulfill, and it didn’t help that his family hated the idea of me. I knew of their negative feelings and had actually been confronted by his sibling (not to his knowledge) about the whole thing. I already felt so unwanted that it did a degree of damage anytime our plans were canceled. I began to get down from my narcissistic pedestal and take things personally, this being another thing he didn’t notice at the time.

Nonetheless, this day was one where I was feeling particularly down about our entire situation. It was about four months into the five-month relationship and I was sitting in my room waiting for him to arrive. To my dismay I heard my phone ring, the scratchy voice of Bob Dylan permeating my impatient silence. I pick it up and see on the caller ID that it is he, so I answer it with haste.

“I don’t think I can make it today,” his voice holds some degree of sadness but I do not see it as a legitimate sadness. These were his famous words, and I suppose I’d heard them too much before. His reason for canceling was that his “mother was out of town and he had to eat dinner with his father.” I realize these days that he was raised differently than I. During dinner at my home we all make our own separate meals and go our separate ways, even on holidays. I was brought up with zero family value and well, it was hard for me to grasp that others were raised with full family value. I snapped at him, I can’t recall exactly what I said but it ended with me hanging up, tossing my phone aside, and collapsing to the floor. I had ended it in such a way that even I didn’t know how to react.

I regretted that decision an hour later and sent a text asking him to just come over, turns out he went with a friend to cheer himself up, but they picked me up and we talked it out. I thought that would fix his habit. I thought that would show him what would happen. I thought I had a good idea of how people learn. It’s easy to tell now that he was just too young. He was too young to realize that love was something you couldn’t just have set in stone; it was a thing to work for.

A month later I met the boy in the next chapter and ended it with this boy without any discussion. For a while I still felt a pang of what could be remaining love, or what could be guilt, I was never sure. I still feel it when I see him walk down the hall or if I sit across from him at lunch. Because of this never fleeting feeling I actually sank to my lowest point in my life. I had met a third boy who you’ll meet soon enough, that I had taken the heart of, but even with him I still thought of the Ferry man that had forgiven me for all of my faults. I sank to my lowest point and actually begged for him back just one last time. Needless to say he eventually rejected me, and I accept that. I just needed my apology to be said, I just needed my word heard, because there hadn’t been a passing day where I wasn’t sorry that I moved on from him to the boy in the next chapter, and actually failed in that, leaving myself without a single person to love only because I loved myself too much. My confidence had peaked past what was healthy and I thought I could do anything. But that’s what life is isn’t it? A slap in the face.

Time still went on and for whatever reason he’d grown to hate me or possibly hate that he still loved me. It was an impossible judgment to make. We grew apart and it didn’t take long for our friendship to entirely deplete, since my looming uproot to Oregon wasn’t exactly something I thought he’d want to hear.


The one that seems to fluctuate the most is perhaps my most incredulous attempt at committing lust. The boy went by two names, of course neither will be disclosed, but I had always been confused as to what I should call him. He chose the more common to go by but it confused me, since my guy friend had the same title.

This boy was the most odd of them all. I suppose it wasn’t something that couldn’t have been predicted but his personality overall was not one that a person would assume I’d go for. He was short, thin, and very tan. He had dark slightly curly hair and a pair of eyes that seemed to glow gold on his best days. His smile was a little crooked but with his attractive voice and classic sort of handsome, it wasn’t really impossible for any girl to like him. He dressed in a very preppy sort of way and that had been a turn-off till Vampire Weekend came into my life.

I’d been secretly admiring this boy for years.

He came to the middle school only a few weeks after I had transferred. The class was bustling as we waited for the teacher to begin , but the teacher didn’t immediately begin because she announced that a new student would be joining us. At the time I was a little curious but it didn’t phase me till he walked through the door. He looked the same as he does now, but then he had that bashful look on his face. He was a precious specimen and caught me instantaneously. In my middle school years I was still overweight and dressing in horrible ways, so I didn’t bother to approach, I simply admired from afar.

He never spoke to me in middle school. He didn’t speak s single word my way, but I assumed he knew my name.

Because of this I forgot about him for the most part, till my burning passion returned during my Senior Year.

Once Ferry Days and I had broken up I had felt a hole in my heart that seemed to remain unfilled. The only thing I could do is reach out for the other men in my life, and none of it caught. So I went back to my roots, and this boy returned to my interest bank. I had gone through my transformation, as previously stated, and felt that I maybe had a chance.

Yet I’ve still never tried anything.

He had a girlfriend when I first started to revamp my feelings for him, so I stayed away. I decided to be a respectful individual and not bother to try to break them up. It wasn’t worth it in my eyes. I simply went back to my middle school state of mind and admired. For some reason as I felt stronger toward him he hovered nearer to me. He would stand by all of us at lunch and ask about “Jam Sessions” or he’d chat and let out that charismatic laugh of his. I was smitten, but I wouldn’t dare.

After he broke up with his girlfriend I gave out subtle signals that I only gave out to make myself happy. He didn’t notice them, or I assumed he didn’t, so I kept it up. I’d occasionally get brave enough and make some prolonged eye contact or talk suggestively. I never came on too strong, but I didn’t leave it as an empty slate either.

I’d practically given up when one day I was standing by my locker trying to clean it out. The hall was empty except for me, I was kneeling down and swearing subtly at the different papers that I needed to throw away. Just as I began to stack them up I felt the presence of an individual beside me. I used my peripheral vision and saw the light american Eagle jeans of none other than this boy. I hate to admit that I recognized his jeans before I looked up at his face, a small smile of confusion on my face. I tried to act as cool as I could, but it was always so difficult in his presence. He had his own grin littering his features as he eyed me with a sort of subtle suspicion.

“Can I help you?” I eventually asked, no longer liking this striking silence. I could never handle moments like that, since I just assumed I was projecting any energy than was maybe manifesting between us.

“Want to skip third hour?” He asked this in a way that hinted at nothing. I wanted to say no since I knew his habits and substance abuse problems, but I couldn’t fight the longing in me that had wished he’d asked that question much longer ago.

I said yes, without assuming anything would happen. Maybe no one else would skip so he asked me? Maybe he just wanted to get to know me better as a friend?

To tell you the truth, I didn’t really care if he just wanted to hang out.

I could be content with just that.

I packed up my things and we drove to his house. He lived in a tall white house that I actually knew was his. I used to live by it, I was just down the road for almost a year. I’d occasionally see him walking to school when I was, but i’d slow down my speed so I didn’t catch up. We got to his house and went inside. I felt odd in allowing a true sort of fulfillment to enter me. I was at least his friend, since he’d invited me here.

We went into his living room and both sat on the couch. Our proximity was nothing to raise a brow at, he sat on a separate cushion than i. I could’ve touched him if I extended my arm, but by all means there was nothing to be hinted by how close he sat. This bothered me to a degree, but I compromised by knowing i had his company.

We flipped through the channels, or more so he did, we discussed both of our loves for Vampire Weekend and an entire forty five minutes passed before he turned and looked over at me. His golden coloured eyes focusing on me, even in their friendly way, it made me feel an intensity. I probably couldn’t have made a sentence if he had asked a more detailed question.

“Do you want anything to eat?” I remember his exact words, since I listened so intently to anything he said. I shrugged my shoulders and decided that I did. Might as well get some food out of the situation since I had no money for lunch. We got up off of the couch and went into the kitchen without further hesitation. I followed behind him slightly. He made a motion toward the tall silver refrigerator once we were in the room, “Help yourself. I don’t know what we have.” he was going over toward the sink so I supposed he wanted a drink as opposed to any form of foodstuff. I didn’t want to go into his fridge, but I didn’t want to seem rude or contradictory.

I opened up the door of the fridge and began to rifle through some things, nothing seemed to my liking. I was about to stand up straight and close it when I felt his presence near me again. I stood up straight and looked over, feeling a deja-vu from the scene earlier at my locker. I swallowed hard and looked at him. I could barely look him in the face. His hand reached up, his warm palm cupping my cheek as he leaned in for a kiss.

My messages and hints had been received.

My long-lived dream had come true.

After we actually returned to school I felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t wanted that at all. I wasn’t daft, I knew the idea he had in mind and how that would be the one and only time. It was in fact the one and only time, but as I look back at it now I feel as if it should’ve happened. I would’ve been hopelessly in love with the boy had we not had our confrontation. I see him everyday at school and he still talks to me as he did before, by simply chiming in during random conversations or if he wanted to talk to my ex about playing some music.

We’ll exchange a suggestive glance almost any time he is near me.

Looking at each other as if testing the legitimacy of our secret.

A sort of mistrust in his eyes, and a distaste in my own.

Time passed, probably a good few months or so, till I finally gained the nerve to start speaking to him again. It was casual talk, chiming in to a conversation or picking on him in some way. It was innocent, and by all means neither of us thought anything of it. I enjoyed the minuscule exchanges, when he’d ask me a question or we’d be paired up in class by the teachers random selection. They made me content in a way that made me feel an utter comfort, it would brighten my day. He got a girlfriend at one point during all of this and I was proud of myself for feeling so nonchalant about it. I liked seeing him happy with her, and I felt no feeling for him, so it didn’t bother me in the least. More time passed, and for whatever reason I began to feel a relapse. It came at me like a wave of energy and so suddenly I felt for him again.

I felt sadness when I saw him speaking to his girlfriend.

and I felt accomplishment when I heard about them breaking up.

I decided that it was my chance to catch him on the rebound, or perhaps try to just get into his circle of friends. Yet I was foiled, because i’d met a boy that I hadn’t yet discussed. He asked me out, and I had said yes. This took me away from Vatican and I didn’t know what to do, since as much as I liked this new boy, I’d constantly think about the old one. One day on Facebook I noticed that the old boy’s status said that he was bored and lonely, and as a joke I commented on it telling him I’d have called if he gave me his number. He replied to this in a wall-post, asking me if I wanted to “hang out”. I knew I had a boyfriend, but because of my ever-lasting , I didn’t say no. We made a plan for his friend to pick me up, and it all went downhill.

I began to be integrated into his group of friends. I hadn’t done much of what they had prior to it all but I was willing to try anything for a little bit of acceptance. at first it was purely boozing, they’d invite me to a couple parties and we’d drink away our sorrows, but it quickly became something else. We’d go by this apartment and try to buy as much substance as we could. It was difficult, since I usually had so little money.

I feel ashamed of myself for sinking so low, just to get this boy’s attention.

But we all have our weak points in life.

I remember the first time I felt a real pang go through my system. The argyle couch was littered with figures, but when the six pack had arrived they all stood except for one. his thin figure was slouched, and because of the lamp, all I could see was a silhouette. I took in the detail of the small crook in the bridge of his nose, the curly ends of his hair sweeping over his eyes till he flipped it to his right. his hand rose up, letting the cigarette fall back between his lips, taking in a deep hefty inhalation. I moved over toward him and sat down, looking over with my chin in my hands. I wanted to ask him if he wanted to get out of here, I wanted to admit to him that I wasn’t ready to be just a friend. Yet I didn’t, I let our smiles exchange and looked forward toward the black screen of the television. We sat in slight silence, knees practically touching. I even put my hand beside me on the couch, letting it linger only centimeters away from his, as if hoping he’d get the hint and take it.

He didn’t take the hint.

He didn’t move away, but he didn’t get quite the hint.

I knew the plan that night was that I was going to be spending the night at his home, because of the fact that neither of us were fit to drive me back to my own house. He and I had decided to leave around one or two in the morning. He admitted that he was a bit too drunk, so I’d have to help him out. I agreed to it and I aided him as we stumbled back to his home. I’m sure it was his crooked steps that kept him at such a near distance to me, our arms occasionally brushing. Even if the alcohol was keeping him near, I knew that I had barely had anything to drink. I faked my intoxication, in a sad attempt to gain his company.

At his house nothing happened. we played a video game and by the time the sun was starting to creep up over the horizon he announced that we should get some sleep. I regrettably agreed. He showed me the way to his room and left me there to go sleep in the guest bedroom. I knew it would happen, but by all means I was crushed that I hadn’t gained the nerve.

I didn’t know what he’d say if I tried something.

I could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, and I should’ve.

The next morning he came in and awoke me, going over to his couch and playing at his guitar. We had very little discussion, I was too drowsy and depressed about the situation that I didn’t even bother to try. I’d nod and smile to him, but my hopes had been so high the night before, that now i had nothing to feed off of.

We parted ways that morning but hung out a few times after. Not much happened between us romantically, but I began to become a much better friend to him. We shared our times in the car with our other friends. The four, sometimes five, of us all joking around. We’d laugh ourselves stupid, and I grew to accept that maybe this boy was out of my league.

I eventually confessed to one of the persons that always hung out with us, that it was he that I enjoyed. She told him, after I’d given her permission to.

I was willing to risk the friendship to maybe get a relationship.

I liked him too much to stay quiet.

I got no word about it, so I assumed she forgot.

I took it upon myself to do my signature move.

I texted him.

After about an hour I got a simple “I Understand.”

I felt so heartbroken over it, a rejection disguised as acceptance.

The worst response possible.

But not all was lost, eventually we spoke about it and he told me to give it time since he had just broken up with his girlfriend and he didn’t want her to get overly upset. He even confessed to beginning to like me as well.

That night I got a call on the phone from my friends, all inviting me out to go to a party with them. I agreed as I always do and was excited to see the boy again, hoping that in our loosened states of mind we could actually gain some nerve. That night we added another person to our crew, a pretty brunette. I liked her at first, she was open, charismatic and loud. she was quite a few things I was not. But as the night progressed I began to realize a few things. Primarily, her and the boy….They would sit very close or when they spoke their faces would go close together, and at one point I noticed a rather sensual touch to her arm. My heart practically shattered as I saw it, but somewhere I knew it would happen. So I didn’t let my hopes get too high up. We spent the night at his house, four of us in the bed, and since I could barely sleep anyhow, I was awake. He slept next to her and I next to my friend. I unfortunately heard the sound of a kiss.

My worst fear had come true.

The next day we all hung out again and the girl was with us again. I just ignored the boy for the most part, assuming I might as well since he was now taken. I wasn’t one to rob a girl of her prize, since I was always one to try and upkeep some honour. During the first half of the day he seemed so close to her it was sickening. I just wanted to go home and not see it, since I had so urgently wished it to be me. Yet eventually things took a turn.

After a night of intoxication he had ditched that girl to come up to me, and asked to hang at my house. I helped nurse him out of his drunken stupor since I had drank very little, and eventually he stayed the night.. Nothing happened… necessarily. We would sit close to each other, or at one point he gained the nerve to touch my knee. I’d experienced so much more but something in me told me to take it slow, since he’d requested I “give it time.” So I was giving it time, letting him move at his own pace. I felt a slur of mixed signals, but kept my hopes where they should be. Low, but still there.

A few days later he requested I help him out with a project for his class. after school I was happy to help him, but when we got to his house we just didn’t really operate. We played Mario, watched some movies and eventually it was so late that he decided I might as well spend the night because the bus service had closed. We had gone up to his room when two of our other friends arrived. I was happy to have their company since our presence was getting a bit awkward. The friends came over and shared a certain substance with him. I was worried at first, but decided that as long as the friends stayed, all would be fine. But just as the thought crossed my mind, they had to leave. So I was left with the boy. He high as a kite, and I entirely sober.

We were sitting on his bed after the other friends had left, just sitting there in a subtle silence. Silences between us were numerous but barely too awkward. After a good ten minutes or so he suddenly piped up and looked over at me.

“I think I have a crush on you.” I was a little taken aback at how blunt he was, but I welcomed it with a solid answer.

“Good. Because you know I like you.” We then shared another silence as if he didn’t know what to think, or as if he didn’t expect me to agree. I heard him whisper something but I couldn’t make it out, and just as I turned to ask him what he’d said I felt the bed move. He came close to me, letting the tips of our noses touch. He lingered in the closeness for a moment before our lips met.

I felt so complete.

It was quick, abrupt, and a little rushed as he sat back in a bashful manner. His eyes cast away as he let his arms cross. He didn’t know if that was okay to do, but I comforted him by letting him know that it was more than okay.

The next day when I awoke I allowed myself to sit up and look down at where he had been previously. I felt so out of place, not being used to waking up in a bed and a home that is not my own. I recollected the happenings of the night prior and still felt that sort of bashful yet achieved feeling. He came into the room only moments after I’d fixed my appearance and flashed a small smile. It was one that I thought seemed so genuine, but i look back on it now and realize it was a devilish grin. We parted ways after a batch of pancakes and I went home, to try and forget what had happened since every ounce of me still believed it was impossible to have him.

Although I doubted my ability to seduce, I still had a bit of my subconscious that egged me on, it told me I could do it. So I still let my hope linger. The day things really went down was the day of my 18th birthday. I had obviously extended an invitation his way, and I was so excited to have him there. We’d drink in each other’s company and maybe we’d get some things ironed out. I wanted to ask him what the deal was with his ex, and if he’d really dropped the brunette from before. when we drove to go pick him up I saw a car in his driveway that was one I had hoped never to see.

His ex.

We sat in the driveway after my friend had called him, we had to leave my friends car here and get picked up by someone, then driven to the party. It was all rather complex. The boy said that his ex would just drop him off. I wanted to tell him just not to go, but I supposed I could just try not to care. Eventually we were picked up and arrived at the party. The boy arrived a half hour or so later, and I greeted him with a smile. He brought his own drink so I didn’t bother to make him a mix. Unfortunately the boy from the next chapter had also arrived, and somehow in my drunken state of mind I was distracted. I hadn’t seen him in so long, I’d forgotten how truly beautiful he was.

Before I could fully recollect everything, one of the party-goers came up to me and told me she was driving the boy home because he had tried to start a fight. I wanted to debate her, but I was so irritated that I didn’t even bother. Let him go. Let him go home and leave me to try my hand at other men. Let him go, and get out of my life.

After a while I wanted to know what happened so I gave him a call. he was practically in tears, and apologized. He asked me to come over after the party, and for whatever reason, I agreed. During the party I didn’t let him litter my thoughts, too distracted by the european beauty that I was hanging on. I was in too much heaven to let this problem in my life bother me. But the party winded to an end eventually and I had a friend drive me to the boy’s house. He let me up and I laid down in his bed, curled up, on the opposite end of him.

“You can lay next to me if you want to.” he offered up to me, patting the sheets beside him. I had a part of me that just wanted to roll my eyes and stay where I was, but the alcohol in my system beat me to the punch. I lifted myself up and laid down beside him, my hands staying to myself till he guided them to his shoulder. I was practically a puppet, I just felt so much inner conflict that I didn’t know what to do.

He’d probably slept with his ex in that god damn bed that night.

I knew he probably did, and thought about it too.

Yet I stayed as I was, and let the happenings happen.

That morning I awoke and he was still asleep. The memory of the prior night hit me like a brick and I wanted to cry. I was an idiot of all idiots, and I regretted it whole-heartedly.

I got up from the bed and called the bus service before he woke up.

His parents were still asleep as well, so I disappeared without a second thought.

After that incident I learned that he did sleep with his ex that night, and that was why he’d tried to start a fight at the party. He thought my friend would tell me.

I felt used, abused and lied to.

So I gave up the chase for this boy, and decided he wasn’t worth the hurt that I could see was going to go down. I couldn’t trust him, I didn’t love him, and overall it was a split decision that I should have really attempted to think out. I did at least learn a lesson, I will never go for another “been around” sort of guy. They’re nothing but confusion, drama and trouble.


You thought I hated you at the end of it all, and I understand that I’d said some harsh words to my friend about you. I didn’t mean any of it
And while you still think I’m hopelessly in love with you, you’re a fool.
I hear about the things you say behind my back, and while they are ultimately flattering. they are lies.
I feel nothing but emptiness toward you.
I thought I somehow did love you, but I only felt lust and adventure.


This tale, this boy, came at the worst possible time he could and did the worst he could with ease a slightly respectable lack of conviction. It was easy to picture I’d notice him eventually; since he fit the bill of the “type” I had developed. He was tall, had dark hair, and a sort of Jewish background. In these times I had my ever-growing obsession with Vampire Weekend, it didn’t hurt that he dressed as if millionaires raised him. He was as preppy as they came, and as Eastern-European as any kid could be in the tiny little school I attended.

The day I first noticed him was when I was sitting in the benches at a pep rally, my eyes fixed on the floor as I watched people enter, waiting for my boyfriend. He was in the band and that fact sort of escaped me. The boy aforementioned from my Geometry class had found his way next o me and I felt rather content till I saw him walk into the gym and along the bleachers. He was dressed in basketball shorts and a white hoodie. He mostly just caught the corner of my eye but caught it nonetheless. I worked to dismiss it as my friend and I continued to enjoy the rally as best we could. Finally came time to call the team names and congratulate each member as best we could with our applause. They went through Cross Country, they went through Basketball, and they went through Softball and finally came the Soccer team. I was only half paying attention and actually missed the calling of his name (which I did not know) but I saw as this new strange boy got down from the bleachers and took his place amongst his teammates. I couldn’t see him totally clearly but I was stricken instantaneously. I had a boyfriend at the time so my mind was made up that I’d simply find out whom this boy was. I’d find out his name, what grade he was in and just forget the matter entirely. I wouldn’t pursue him, my self-confidence in this field was very low and I wasn’t ready to go boy hopping since I still very much so loved my boyfriend.

I found out his name, and for the sake of my own anonymity I shall not share it with you, but it was a good name. I found out he was a year my junior and that he knew who I was. I’d only been able to find this information by cross-examining an old friend of mine who was a good friend of his. I did it in a skillful way so that his friend did not see through my tricks till the day that my boyfriend really tested my attraction to this new boy. My boyfriend and I were sitting in a coffee shop talking about random things, and discussing us, I decided to be as truthful as possible and let my boyfriend know that I felt attracted to this new person. I also made it very clear that I did not plan on doing any pursuing, but I suppose no boyfriend takes it very lightly when is girlfriend has feelings for another person, so he sort of snapped. With a fiery look in his eyes he stood and looked at me, speaking at a raised tone he began to cry and shout out loud about this boy, saying his name aloud. How was I to know that this boy’s friend was present in the room? Before I could kill any rumour that may have sprouted the boy was fully aware and actually slightly eager to know who I was.

Our first contact was made through text. It was so casual and calm that I actually laughed when I received it. I had not exchanged a single word from this boy before the day he texted me saying “Hey”. His lack of punctuation was what should have been the first warning sign to me, but I replied, because I was ignorant and uncaring. I was courting a boy of my full choosing. We texted for a good couple weeks before he invited me to go trick-or-treating on Halloween with he and the friend that had told him of my crush in the first place. I was still with my boyfriend, but for whatever reason, I said yes.

An important detail to remember is that I had not met this boy in any way, shape or form. I had never known of him till the pep rally where I saw him for the first time. This was another warning sign I should’ve heeded about my pure lust. You can’t love anyone till you know him or her. Nonetheless, I am young and stupid, so all I could think about was hearing his voice for the first time. I half hoped he had some voice that was entirely high-pitched or embarrassing so that my mind would stay where it had to, on my boyfriend. I met him for the first time on Halloween (My boyfriend out of town at the State Cross Country Meet) at the coffee shop downtown. I wasn’t in my costume yet, but he was dressed as a chef. I remember only because I was a fanatic of Top Chef at the time, so it only helped him to win me over. My hopes were not realized as i had been wishing, his voice was perfectly normal and in all actuality rather soothing since he never rose it much higher than a calming whisper. I was entranced from the moment we met, and I could only feel a sure sense of dread in the back of my mind.

We had planned meet in the warm hearth of the coffee shop, but I was running just a little late because I was caught up in packing my costume back into my bag, the costume I planned on changing into later. I walked down the cold hill, the chill in the air is something I remember very vividly. There was virtually no snow on the ground so we had all lucked out slightly, though this cold was enough to make me want to turn away. My conviction was too keen on meeting my new found crush and my common sense had entirely left me, so I walked. I found my way to the shop about six or seven minutes tardy and found them sitting down at the largest round table in the place. This table took away from the intimacy I had hoped to create, but by all means it too was a comfort. The friend of his was sitting there, glad to greet me on the forefront but the boy was not present. I gave my friend a quizzical look and he comforted me in letting me know he was purchasing a drink. Before I could react or adjust my appearance from the wind he approached. He was tall and dressed in pale straight leg jeans. He didn’t have his costume on yet, his button-up being a designer brand, it was green with white vertical stripes. I flashed him a small smile and was surprised to see he too smiled at me. That meant nothing, but by all means it was heart-warming. Eventually we al eased into the situation but it was also very apparent that he was either going back on his interest or just nervous. The way he sat sideways in his chair, so that he was not facing me, but facing his friend. I didn’t let it go to heart, so I simply kept my place in the conversation and made my word known. After a good ten or fifteen minutes the male pair began to text on their cellphones, at this time I had unlimited texting but I was the basic middle-class teenager, I was very ashamed of my phone. The integrity of my phone wasn’t even close to the topic on my mind, I didn’t dare look over that way as I situated myself in my chair, and listened as he’d occasionally release a laugh and show his friend something on the phone’s screen. I felt so out of place and grew exponentially uncomfortable as our little hangout ensued, but by the time we had decided to go Trick-Or-Treating, we had all sunk into our comfort zones. Eventually he invited me to go to the game with him so it seemed so positive. Now as I reflect it seemed surreal, having him sit next to me, both of us laughing at some wisecrack I’d made. It was my little piece of heaven, while it lasted.

We texted more often than I could even say. A constant string of conversation was always going through my phone, to the point where I had to switch my plan to unlimited texting just so I wouldn’t have to pay any more fees. Eventually I’d asked if he liked me, he’d always give me the “I don’t know” answer, and that wasn’t a no, so I kept my conviction. When the idea of Friends with benefits was proposed we decided to hang out. He’d warned me that he never made first moves, and at the time I just bragged and said I wasn’t scared to. I went to his home with the worst possible intentions but by the end of the night I hadn’t even sunk in a kiss. I felt ashamed and cowardly as I descended the stairs to my mother’s car. She looked at me with her usual annoyed stare and asked how things went. I told her they went great and we drove home. He often ridiculed me about that, and I always asked for my second chance, but it was never given to me.

Eventually he stopped replying to my texts, and we already didn’t speak at school so I tried my best to move him out of my mind. Yet this boy, this most heinous of boys, had a sense for timing that no one can ever match. Any time that I began to heal he’d text me and ask to try again. We’d set up a hangout but when I texted him to see if we were still on, he would not reply. I was not sure if I was being tested or tricked, so eventually I gave up; but his timing never ceased to fail.

School was out and I had some cash in my pocket so I decided to take the common piece of transportation in my town called the Interurban. It was a big blue bus that would take you anywhere within the town’s area for just a dollar. I, being the kid who never learned to drive, was very familiar with this mode of transportation and I was actually very keen on using it. Yet this day, I wish I would’ve just taken the school bus. When I got on the bus it was virtually empty and for this I felt lucky, but just as the doors closed and it began to pull away a familiar figure ran up and made it stop. On climbed the boy who I couldn’t contact, the one who ignored my want of affection, the boy I’d learned to despise. Nonetheless I was weak. I sat there at first, simply stealing a glance every now and again. He was wearing sunglasses but the lenses weren’t as dark as he had thought, I could tell he was looking at me for more than half the ride. It got to a point where I sent him a text asking why he ignored me. He simply said he wasn’t. I didn’t try to take it any further as the Interurban stopped and let me off at my home. I thought that’d be the last time I ever spoke, or texted him, and for a very long while it was.

A total of two months had passed till I got my next text from him. It came at around three a.m. and I had just finished a game in peer bong where I had inevitably lost. I picked up my cellphone and read it over. I looked it over a few times, unsure if it were actually there. It read: “Do you still like me?” It was such a childish piece of contact that I considered not answering, but it was hard to deny him since he’d somehow burned his image into my heart. I answered back with a simple, “I’m trying not to.” and eventually the conversation spun into a recollection of the chance I had missed.

He offered me that second chance I’d been waiting for.

He offered me that second chance I had forgotten about wanting till just then.

He asked me to meet him at the coffee shop downtown. Coincidentally the one where my ex-boyfriend had first gotten into his rage about my innocent crush and where I’d first met this boy on Halloween. I found my way to the coffee shop that weekend, right on time. I had been brainstorming when I should arrive. Should I be early? No, that would seem to desperate. Should I be late? That might feel cool but I knew it’d just piss him off. So I was there, on the dot. I found my way to a table since he was not there. I assumed he was playing the late card, but instead I sat there for three hours with hope in my heart, and concern in my mind. I had known it was inevitable, and somewhere in that time period of waiting I had accepted defeat. I picked up my phone and sent him my final text:

“Never contact me again.”

Unfortunately he did contact me again and unfortunately I became hooked up on the thought of having a chance. Even after he left me at that coffee shop I have forgiven him. We usually don’t talk during school. We’ll avoid each other’s glances whole-heartedly and the only time we ever chat is when he texts me late at night. i know he only texts me to raise his confidence, since I faun over him and try my best at being kind. I know he doesn’t like me back, but somehow I feel as if he will. He told me once that he did, but he told me that when I had a boyfriend. I broke up with that boyfriend because Riga admitted to liking me, but when I told him this, he said he had accepted that we could never date.

months passed and I saw him occassionally, but I’d grown this sort of despise deep set in my heart. I wouldn’t talk to him, but he wouldn’t talk to me either. I did it so subtly that the hatred could surely only be seen by me alone. I knew he couldn’t feel some cosmic wave of energy that let him know something was wrong; and for all I know he didn’t care if something was wrong. When I went off to florida he completely forgot about me. i’d get a rare text but not much else. we didn’t talk on the computer, we didn’t talk on the phone, we didn’t talk. I didn’t even seem to care or miss our talks, since I knew we never connected on the level that I’d wanted.

But when I came back to Michigan he was thrust back into my life with a fervor that took me aback. The day after I got back I was with my friens at a “welcome back” sleepover. I was sitting on the computer that was prjected on my friend’s giant television. I went over and clicked the “online firneds” button and saw that he was on facebook,

“Oh I want to chat him so bad!” I joked to my friends who both laughed. they knew the back and forth of the story an knew my feelings on the matter. Yet to my surprise the small pop of facebook chat went off and there it was. his little default picture’s thumbnail and a simple greeting.

“What’s up?”

We talked casually since it’s impossible for me to say no. It lead to im inviting me to a small get togetehr at a different friends house. This was an opportunity for smoke to fill my lungs and an opportunity for me to see him again in a more casual setting. I just waned to see his thin silhouette in the darkness of a smoky room. And that I did. We went out to the shed and did our thing. My one friend who didn’t smoke became my prime concern, but having his energy beside me was so difficult. Simply sitting next to the boy made my heart beat and my palms sweat. I would stutter and stumble through sentences and i’d handle the bowl and lighter with such clmsy manerisms that I eventually required help.

I now see him almost every weekend and try my best every time to let him know how I feel and in hopes will get a drunken make out session. He doesn’t seem to want to budge and I know in my mind that this means he is not interested. Yet my draw to him is so perplexing that I cannot fight it. I can try to ignoble it but I will get caught getting lost in staring at him. Once or twice I’ve been caught and I actually fear that my other friends may have noticed. But I will promise you that while this is an unrequited love that draws heavy on my heart strings, it is a feeling that I believe not many get to experience in their lifetime. This is me taking the smallest situations and embedding them into my eternal memory just because he was a part of them.

more recently i was at a friends house and he threw a text my way and asked if I wanted to hang out with him and my other friends. I hated to ditch what I was doing but he has that power of persuasion, and doesn’t even know it. I walked down the dark road with the broken streetlights and held my cellphone tight in my hand, using the lght as a guiding hope that I wouldn’t be raped or killed in this humble alleyway. I made it to the road and stood on the sidewalk. I noticed that I’d forgotten to put deodorant on that day so I fumbled for something in my purse to freshen myself up. I ended up finding breath spray and spritzed it lightly to my udnerarms, knowing they would sweat simply because I would be in his presence.

Their car pulled up and a few joke of them released the “how much?” joke, but he kept silent, siting in the backseat. I noticed that the passenger front was full and there were already two people in the back. this would’ve usually irritated me but under this circumstance I was delighted. He opened up his door and got out. I flashed him a smile and got nothing in return. I did as I was gestured to do and got into the middle of the backseat, sandwiched between him and my other friend. Now my legs actually would’ve fit perfectly in the middle and not touched either of theirs, but you know I am not that simple. I put one leg up so I wasn’t touching my friend and let my other push slightly against his own. I can still remember the small musk that his over-sized jacket gave off. I noticed he wore a birght red hoodie, and the hood was up over his dark hair. His blue jeans were most likely from some top brand store and sported small holes on the legs. I took sight of all of this in the darkness, since he was more focused on his cigarette than anything else. That night we went back to my friend’s parents house and hung out. It was a simple hangout, nothing complex or contrived, our usual just sitting around and taking or making fun of him.

We all stepped out onto the porch and he packed the pipe and we passed it around. I have smoked quite a bit of herb in my teen years but I’ve never become very good at it. The bowl is in my hands and i look at it, turn my lgihter, attempt to light the small pieces of plant and get a decent hit. I end up taking one that is much too large and everyone laughs as I grab with haste at the sunny d. I cough and cough and feel a burning sensation in the back of my lungs. when the bowl gets back my way I pass it off o the friend next to me without taking a hit but then a familiar voice pipes up.

“You have to take a hit, or no one does. you can’t break the circle.” I know he is just being ridiculous but being put on the spot and having his eyes so focused on me gives me a fluttery feeling. I lean back as if threatened and forget I’m on the ledge of the deck so I almsot fall, but catch myself before I do. He’s still focused on me and it makes me feel so uncomfortable in my own skin that I end up taking the bowl and pretending to take a hit, in hopes that this will suffice his need to make me feel pain. But unfortunately he was not satisfied. I take another pretend hit and turn around so he can’t tell its fake. But i feel breath on my hair and its that he has leaned forward and put his face next to mine. This sends a chill up my spine and I release the defensive laughter, swatting him away. I don’t want him to get away but I feel as if somehow these people can all see through me an realize my heart beat has raised. I finally take the pipe in my hand, touch the flame to the grain and take in a small but very legitimate hit. He finally steps away and although I can now barely talk, I feel the heavy weight of his presence on my shoulders.

We sat by each other in “The Shed”, we pressed knees in the car, we texted rarely, he invited me to parties, and he just never really felt the ambient want from my heart. He couldn’t quite tell my sneaking of glances was every two moments. He just couldn’t let himself give up and become mine for just a short while. I didn’t want to steal his heart away and make it mine. I just wanted one night in your arms, or touching my lips to yours, or even just leaning on each other and exchanging a laugh

I left to My new home cross-country that you will learn about soon.
I left after one last forced hug.
I left and I know, that even writing this, I know that I will never forget him. I will never forgive him for the pain he put me through.
I left without my chance.
I left without your heart.
I left without letting you hear how much I cared about you.
But still, I left feeling whole. somehow.

I Ate KFC With a Nazi: Lust

Amber Kipp

Key West, United States

  • Artist

Artist's Description

A chapter of my Novella “I Ate KFC With a Nazi”

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