When I was in elementary school, everybody in a class exchanged Valentine’s Day cards at school. Is it still that way? We each decorated a shoebox with our name on it. We cut a slit in the top for others to drop cards through. The displays were up for several days — and everybody was required to give a card to everybody else.
When I was in the fifth grade, I had a crush on a beautiful blue-eyed blonde girl named Wendy. She was my ideal girl when I was about 11 years old. I was terrified of anybody realizing this, though, because then she might know — and that seemed scary. I guess it was “puppy love” rejection I feared.
Since classes routinely gave cards to everyone, there were large packs of small, cheap cards that stores sold. I bought a pack of those generic cards — but I also bought one very special card, much nicer than the others, just for Wendy.
Surely, I thought, nobody will notice. Nobody will figure it out. My secret would be safe.
But little girls who compared the cards they received in our class did notice. And they talked among themselves. Before I knew it, everybody was whispering that I “liked Wendy.”

Sounds of old music awakened repressed feelings from my past
We’re all a little crazy; I worry about those who don’t know it
Bloomberg: Policing what you eat part of ‘government’s highest duty’
Without empathy and persistence, high IQ is just a cheap parlor trick
Can I reconnect with inner child who saw the world differently?
Love’s closest counterfeit sounds like love but acts like selfish need
Becoming conscious of life choices means start of whole new struggle
What if we’re more talented than our inner fears allow us to admit?
Black Friday orgy of consumerism makes me very uncomfortable