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.”

What if narcissistic vampire bit me but he never finished the job?
Honesty, wisdom and insight teach that we have to live with uncertainty
Creative process can be very ugly, but I need to share mine with you
The child in me never learned to feel at home as part of a group
Anarchist vs. minarchist debate misses the shift to post-statist world
God may be working on what we need long before we can see it
Authenticity the only path that connects us to people we need
KKK-loving newspaper owner has always been a nut; this isn’t news