January 7, 1998

Dear Di,

I want to scream. I want to throw something, hurt somebody, for all the pain Eli Klein is causing me. Even though it's over.

What do I mean by over? As in: Coming to terms with reality. As in: Face facts. He'll never like me. I'm not pretty or funny or fun to be around. And I'm not outgoing either. If he liked me, I would have known long ago. (Or maybe not). It's just not going to happen.

No one knows how I feel. Not even Francine, and I tell her everything. Except this. I'm hurting just too much. Oh, sure. On schoolgrounds, I'm happy enough. I put up a cheerful front and paste on a smile. But beneath my exterior, "a sword has pierced my heart," or so to speak.

I mean, who would ever dream that Vanessa Waltz, sunny, silly, strange Vanessa Waltz, has any problems bigger than her next test? And if she HAS a crush, it doesn't mean anything, right? Whoever thought that I, who will verbally bash every guy within two miles, could be SERIOUS about one? Gasp!

I swear, Di, if I wasn't too young, I would seriously consider myself in love. But who ever heard of a 13-yr. old in love? Not me, that's for sure!!

On Eli: I can't deny that I'm nutso about him. But now it's a sad kind of nutso, a no-matter-how-much-I-want-him-to-like-me-it'll-never-happen nutso. Let's face it: Who'd like a girl who'd rather pay attention in school and get homework done than sit & socialize like other more normal, prettier, popular girls? But at least I don't center a conversation on purple and orange nail polish or bell bottoms & other "must-haves." So let's see...we've got a girl who gets straight A's since 5th grade, likes school, would rather pay attention, likes to sit up front, has a huge pimple on her chin, OK fashion sense, etc. The list goes on and on. You get the picture. Basically, Di, we're dealing w/ a very boring person here. I mean, my idea of fun is reading a book, going to a bookstore/ library, and here's a good one: Visiting the Humane Society! Just to play with all the lonely puppies, dogs, kitties, and cats. How's that for original?!

Who'd WANT to like me? I'm probably not a very likable person, obviously. So I pity the few, if any, boys who lust after me.

Nancy Heinkel has already sunk her claws into him. (E.K.). I heard her today confiding to Isabelle Norris (she gave me you, remember?) and Ursula Canton. Ursula had just broken her leg, & Nancy was saying something about how if Eli broke his leg she'd try to get the guts to sign it. I was only close enough to hear some of it.

Hold on, Eli. (I wonder if she knows I like him?) Don't succumb to her evil charms. Just wait 'till I work up the guts to tell you I like you. (Which will be never). I'm not even brave enough to talk to him about anything except tell him what pg. we're on in English or to lend him a pen when he needed it. But I can't even do that! We changed seats so now I'm not by him anymore. What does it matter? We never said anything to each other anyway. I bet he's sorry we moved. Who will have a spare pen? Paper? I can see it now: Someone mentions my name and immediately his thoughts are of paper and pen.

Sincerely,
Vanessa