Charlie Brown...how dear to me he is. I feel as though I know him. Very often, I feel as though I am him. While I know that's not quite true, Charlie Brown was in fact Charles Schulz, but he was much more than that. He was the anti-hero for all young American boys. None of us has been picked first for every team, nor have we always been brimming with the confidence to approach our own "red-headed girls", but thanks to Charlie, we knew we werent alone. Thanks, Charlie, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

There are so many ways, so very many ways that I can compare myself to Charlie Brown (or any other member of the Peanuts gang, for that matter), but there is one that means more to me than all others. Charlie severely lacked the confidence needed to just sit down next to that red-headed girl and say hello...to that, I can relate.

I met my read-headed girl in my junior year, and immediately, I was struck by the familiarity of the situation. There she was, sitting there, reading a book, seemingly struggling with it. Never before had I seen a vision quite like that. She was so very cute, tugging at her long red hair, biting on the end of her pen, engrossed in a Government book. She looked up at me, almost like she knew that I was staring at her, as quickly as I possibly could, I directed my eyes back to whatever the hell it was I was supposed to be reading, pretending to groove to whatever music was piping through my headphones. Not feeling to sure that I should go back to the task or examining this rarified beauty from my spot across the room, I glanced up and saw her grinning. Content with having made a complete ass of myself, I went about my schoolwork and finished out the day and left, never once looking back at her.

For weeks, this chirade wore on. I would sit in the same spot and wait for her to sit wherever it was she was going to sit, and she would go into her act of pulling on her hair, twisting it around her fingers, chewing on that same pen every day (She never wrote with that pen that I saw, seems she had another one for that). The game went on and on, roles reversed on occassion, like to little coy in a pond, gently brushing up against eachother, then darting off in the other direction. As much as I enjoyed the act, I knew that that was all there was to it, for she was far too gorgeous to even consider being with someone as plain as I. Granted, I had many things to offer, looks that compared were not among those. Having accepted my role in her life, I continued on, repeating the act every day, feeling sad on the days when she was not there, looking forward to our encounters more and more as time wore on.

Four years later, here I sit, typing this out. Whatever happened to my red-headed girl? Well...she is now in college, with some guy I refer to as "cockforbrains" and living a life that I'm not a part of, not on a daily basis at least. We still talk, as exs many times do, but things will likely never be the same. Notes were passed, phone numbers were exchanged, and a 3 year relationship was had. Things change, maybe I will get my red-headed girl back, maybe I wont.

The Charlie Brown in all of us gets confidence at one point, if not for the red-head, then for the blonde, or the brunette. Hes not always picked last. He isnt always on the losing team. His kite doesnt always get stuck in the tree, and at least once, he will kick that football to spite all of those who thought he would never do it, and when he does, it is a mighty kick, one for the ages, one that secures his legacy in the annals of humanity. And when all is said and done, he still has that pen with the chewed up end...I know I still do. Happy (belated) Valentines Day my pretty pixie...rest in peace Charlie Brown (and snoopy, and linus, and lucy, and peppermint patty, and woodstock, and the teacher, and schroeder...). See you all after my birthday.